The Way Back
by atsuibelulah
Summary: Sarah discovers that in the Underground not even the way back is what it seems. She is tortured and dropped in the Labryinth and Jareth is determined to find out what has happened to her, but what will he do when he finds out the truth? JS,Complete!
1. Prologue

Prologue

A desperate scream reverberated through the dark chamber, taking form as a single word, a name, and a triumphant smile played across the deadly red lips of the Queen. Her ice blue eyes coldly rested on the pathetic creature kneeling in terror and supplication at her feet. Its dark hair was splayed, matted and mangled, about the floor as its head rested uneasily on the black stone floor, its arms wrapped around its shoulders, a last attempt to shield itself from the pain.

It had taken the Queen a long time to break this would-be traveler, it had been quite enjoyable. It was extremely satisfying to know she had broken through all of this one's surprisingly strong defenses, finally knowing the last item it had kept hidden for so long. But now it was done, leaving the thing of little more entertainment value. The Queen paused, thinking of the name, maybe there was some more enjoyment to be had.

The Queen of Shadows gracefully stood, stepping lightly down from the obsidian dias. The creature cowered lower at the sound of her approach, its knuckles turning white as it bruised its own flesh in dread and pressed ever closer to the floor. The Queen lightly brushed a white hand across the thing's shuddering back and into the dirt and blood caked hair in a kind of perverse caress. The creature whimpered and the Queen smiled.

She motioned to one of the heavily muscled guards positioned along the walls of her throne room, "Drop her in the Labyrinth, since she was so eager to go there." The Queen smiled wider now, "Let us see what he will do."

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A/N: Ok, this is my first laby fic. But I was so impressed by all the great fics I've read on this site I decided to try my hand at it. Lemme know what you think. 

atsuibelulah


	2. I've Brought You a Gift

Chapter 1

I've Brought You a Gift

Jareth catapulted awake, mismatched eyes flying open, welcoming the familiar darkness of his own chamber. He could no longer remember the dream, the existence of which was extremely disconcerting, for it had been decades since he had had one. However, the despairing echo of someone screaming his own name refused to be forgotten. It was so rare that he dreamed, that it took him a moment to remember the last time. Not decades, just one. He had dreamed of Sarah in the ballroom only a day before she had played the game, and won.

He swiftly stood and walked to the small balcony off his chamber, looking over his century-old domain. He tried to think of something else, thoughts of Sarah would lead him down a dangerous path. He could not afford to allow _her_ to discover the full extent of Sarah's victory. He had been careful, would be careful. If the Queen ever found out of the power he had lost her in that poorly planned gamble, "Stop thinking," he muttered. Not even he knew of all the spies she kept on him or all of the ways she could find out. He gritted his teeth as he looked at her tool, of which he was just a tenant, a caretaker. It gave her too much power, no one should have so much control over her subjects.

It was still dark, the middle of the night, but he was no longer tired. Jareth turned his mind to search out the Labyrinth. There was no other way to describe it, the consciousness that was the Labyrinth, its soul. He had never bothered to name the thing, he didn't really think it wanted one anyway. But through the years, as strange as it seemed he had developed a grudging respect and then friendship with his fellow prisoner.

Some may have thought it was unfair of the Goblin King to think of himself as a prisoner, he was the First Lord of the court of Shadows, the second most powerful being in the realm, with a ruthless reputation throughout both sides of the Underground. But he had come to his Queen, to the Labyrinth, with no other choices left. She was the one who had needed him and she had made the offer very attractive to an outcast whose only other option was death.

Centuries later, as he tried to find the consciousness of his power-channeling domain, Jareth was developing a headache. He had not had one of those since shortly after he had dreamed last.

It should not have taken him this long, something was wrong. He sighed and rubbed his throbbing temples, the immense maze was always extremely hard to deal with when it was upset. Jareth finally made contact with the Labyrinth and could tell it was worried and panicked. He tried to ask it why, cursing that he could not actually have a conversation with the thing. The experience was much like getting information from an enormous, highly intelligent dog. It could tell him something was wrong, but not what.

Frustrated, Jareth walked back into his chamber, dropped a crystal, and was dressed in his usual white shirt and grey breeches before he opened the door and quit the room, white-blonde hair swirling with the force of his stride. He could have transported to the throne room, but he wanted to expend his physical energy as his thoughts raced. What could be wrong? He searched though the Labyrinth again, casting his mind across its vastness. Suddenly, he felt it. A presence, familiar but somehow strange, and unrecognizable had come into his realm. The spirit of the Labyrinth obviously knew it, but Jareth could not tell if that was good or bad.

Deciding what he really needed was to sit down, he dropped another crystal and transported directly to his throne. He sat, and prepared for some serious brooding. There was nothing he could do until the Labyrinth calmed down. The realm was far too large to search physically, and Jareth would not expend the force or the willpower to round up enough goblins and get them to follow orders. Cradling his throbbing head in his hands, Jareth did not notice his subject approach the throne until the dwarf coughed politely.

Looking up, the Goblin King groaned, not caring enough to put on any kind of public face, "Whatever it is Hedgewart, I'm sure it can wait. It's the middle of the bloody night and I have, of all things, a headache. Come back in the morning." The dwarf did not move. Jareth rolled his eyes in disgust at himself, he could not have sounded more pathetic. "Alright, what do you want?" Jareth straightened slightly and gave the dwarf a look of daggers.

"Um, well your majesty…there's a…a disturbance in the hedge maze," Hoggle kept his eyes respectfully on the floor. He had been taught a lesson after his last defiance and was now very careful around the King. "I thinks you should come and see," he finished quickly.

"A disturbance?" Jareth sat up, leaning towards the dwarf, "What kind of disturbance?" This could be what had the Labyrinth so worked up. Hoggle opened his mouth, obviously unsure of how to put his answer, "No, don't bother. We'll just be wasting time," Jareth cut him off and dropped a crystal, making them appear at the entrance to the rows of hedges, past the paths of stone. He turned to the dwarf, "Lead me there."

Five minutes of walking brought them to a gap in the maze where a lamp had been left unattended. Hoggle bent to pick it up, "I hopes she hasn't moved," he muttered.

Jareth wasted no more time on the stupid dwarf, swiftly and quietly walking the path, that he knew was a dead end. He stopped abruptly when he saw, his eyes widening with shock and confusion. It was a girl, no a woman, but grossly emaciated. She was clad in nothing but a paper thin single piece of fabric, it looked to be the remains of a long T-shirt from the Aboveground. It was wrapped and tied about her form as one would wear a towel, leaving her too skinny, dirt and blood encrusted arms and legs exposed. Her dark hair hung limply to her waist, matted and filthy, Jareth guessed that, if it was clean, it would be a dark brown. She had backed herself into the far corner of the hedge, hazel eyes wide in terror, taught hands clawing at the green walls.

It was her eyes that first struck Jareth as familiar. They were red-rimmed from what looked like lack of sleep, dark blue shadows hung under them, making her look half dead. But they were the exact same color and her face, if she were properly fed, would have been nearly the same. Jareth peered at the frightened creature, he could not tell. Taking a tentative step forward, he formed the name into a question, "Sarah?"

She reacted at once, thrusting herself desperately further into the corner, turning her battered body protectively into it, while keeping her eyes on him. Tears made from fear trickled silently down her hollow cheeks. He did not take another step, mind racing to discern what was happening here.

Jareth was almost certain it was Sarah cowering before him, a fact that he found most disconcerting, it being so outside her nature. But she had reacted to her name, it must be Sarah. Something had happened to her, someone had done this to her. He could tell she did not recognize him, he had never struck such terror in her before. How could he approach her without her panicking, causing even more harm to herself?

The Goblin King sighed inwardly, deciding on his usual course of action, but not having much faith in its success. Why should he, it had never worked on Sarah before. During their first meeting, Jareth had been impressed with Sarah's ability to resist his illusion and mind tricks, but as the game wore on it became increasingly annoying. If his personal talents could not do anything in this situation he would have to draw on the power of the Labyrinth and that would only draw _her_ attention. He tried to do that as little as possible, especially where Sarah was concerned. Jareth was not sure how much his Queen knew about that journey through the Labyrinth.

Sarah was now crouched and had shifted, if it was possible, even further into the hedge. She had wrapped her arms around her thin shoulders and pressed her face to her knees. Jareth moved slowly closer and she whimpered. He felt his heart tear in his chest, he had never thought to hear that sound from the beautiful, ever defiant Sarah Williams. It was the first sound she had made since he arrived. Jareth smoothly dropped to a half - kneeling position and pulled a crystal from the air, "Sarah," he softly intoned, "I've brought you a gift." The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. The game was ingrained in his tongue, his very muscles. He could never escape it, and apparently neither could Sarah.

Jareth spoke her name again and she finally looked up into his face, the fear in her eyes still evident. He moved the crystal across his knuckles in a familiar gesture, catching her eye. His heart sunk lower as he saw she was immediately lost to it. Who could have broken such an indomitable spirit? Sarah's terror vanished in an instant, replaced by the faraway gaze that played over every young wisher's face when he offered them their dreams, every one except her own, once. She had possessed the wit and determination to play the game, to finish it, and someone had robbed her of that.

Sarah had uncurled herself from the corner, reaching a trembling hand towards the crystal. Jareth noticed the old scars and new bruised and infected wounds encircling her wrist. They had chained her, tortured her. He was beginning to grow angry. Her hand had almost touched the orb before he tenderly clasped her forearm, below the wounds. "Ah, ah, ah," Jareth nearly whispered, "I didn't offer you your dreams yet, my dear." He dropped the crystal and a shimmering powder filled the air between them. "Sleep, Sarah," Jareth commanded, catching her before she hit the ground.

The Goblin King easily lifted the underfed woman into his arms and began walking back to the dwarf, still waiting at the gap. To his utter surprise, Sarah immediately curled sleepily against his chest, clutched at his shirt with one hand and sighed heavily but contentedly. Jareth could not help smiling and with an uncharacteristically awkward gesture, for he had no free hands, he dropped another crystal and returned with her and the dwarf to the castle beyond the Goblin City.

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A/N: Please, please, please review this! These chapters have not been edited by anyone other than me (because my usual helper is not that into Labyrinth) so if anyone wants to beta read for me that would be outstanding :) And for those of you who do review...answer me just one question please... 

Does Jareth come off as whiny in the beginning of the chapter? If he does, know that I didn't mean for him to.

Thanx!

atsuibelulah


	3. Dreams

Chapter 2

Dreams

Jareth materialized into his private chambers with the deeply slumbering Sarah in his arms and a properly embarrassed Hoggle in tow. Having no other room prepared, he carefully laid the woman into his own, admittedly over-large bed, pulling the rumpled sheets up and around her. Jareth realized it had been less than an hour since he had awakened from that dream. Had it been Sarah who screamed for him? He repressed a shudder and turned to the dwarf, needing answers, though not really expecting much.

"How did you find her? What happened?" Jareth bluntly demanded.

"I was just walking through the hedges…" the dwarf began uncertainly.

"In the middle of the night?" the King interjected.

Hoggle looked embarrassed again, "I, ah, couldn't sleep."

"Well, that makes two of us."

The dwarf continued after a long pause, followed by an impatient gesture from Jareth, "So, I was walkin'. It was real dark. The moon was behind some cloud, but I had me lamp so's I could see. I turned a corner and saw the little lady. She was lyin' in a big heap, like somebody dropped 'er there. I didn't think it was 'er right away. It didn't look like 'er…but it did. So I shined me lamp closer and she started movin'. I was almost sure it was the little lady, but when she looked at me…she didn't know me. I thought she was gonna scream, but she didn't make a sound. She ran into the dead end and when I came after her, she backed into the corner. The closer I got the more afraid she looked. So I left the lamp at the entrance and got you…your majesty."

As Jareth had anticipated, it was not much information. He sighed, not wanting to get anyone else involved. The fewer who knew the less information there would be to find its way to _her_. She could never find out about Sarah. He had been so careful, even reluctantly cutting off Sarah's connection to her three companions.

Jareth turned to the first of those companions, taking up his kingly demeanor, "You may go back to your home, Hoghead. I will call if you are needed." He saw the little dwarf begin to reply, but silenced him with a raised eyebrow. Hoggle shuffled quietly out.

The Goblin King made a chair appear beside the bed, sat tiredly and gazed steadily at the only person to ever defeat his game, to deny the Labyrinth the power of her dreams, for a long time after Hoggle left. Dreams, it had been dreams that got him in this situation in the first place so long ago. It had been dreams that caused him to refuse…no. He could not stop to relive the past. He needed to take care of Sarah, to find out what had happened to her.

She had curled into a tight ball, hugging one of his pillows like all those stuffed animals he remembered seeing in her room. Her face was a startling contrast from earlier, still too thin, but peaceful and serene. Her hair was still a mess and her hands were bleeding slightly from countless miniscule scratches, a result of her taking refuge in the hedge.

Jareth would need help. He summoned a pen and paper, scribbling a short note and sending it flying out the open window. He waited until they arrived, trying to decide how much to tell them.

He felt the current of magic coming towards the castle a few moments later. The Goblin King stood and walked to the edge of his balcony as the pair of golden finches flitted to the railing. The two birds twittered curiously and in a swirl of feathers and shimmering fabric they had transformed into a man and a woman. Jareth looked over his vassals, the oldest of any friends who would still have him. They were creatures of gold, bronze curls encircled the male's head and tumbled down the female's back, two pairs of identical amber eyes gazed steadily back, questioning. Protocol dictated he would be the first to speak. Whatever else he had forsaken, Jareth clung to his court's protocol, ruefully savoring the small silences it allowed him.

He finally answered their unspoken question, "No, there has not been a child wished away." Jareth spread his hands in a vaguely entreating gesture, something they had not been expecting, for he did it so rarely. The man's jaw dropped slightly, his sister's eyebrows raised slightly. Jareth continued in a calm but intense voice, "I called you here to request your services, not for the court, but for myself. I also ask for your silence. I do not know what she will do," he closed his eyes when he let that thread of fear escape.

The woman stepped forward, "Oh Jareth," she sighed, placing her hand on his arm, drawing it down to be clasped in her other hand, "who would we tell?"

Her brother smiled, flashing his often exposed ivory teeth, "Nadia's right as usual, my King. Who else do we talk to?"

"Do not lapse into your usual juvenile behavior yet, Aidan," she told him scathingly, turning a gentle eye back to Jareth, "What's wrong?"

Jareth decided he would not hide anything from them. If he could not trust the twins he could trust no one. They had been the first wished away, with him nearly from the beginning of his stewardship. He had raised them, having no desire to add to the parasitic hordes of goblins that had come with the damn castle. He had trained them, giving them skills that would make them useful, begging the Queen to grant them magic, long life, a purpose in his kingdom.

Aidan and Nadia took those wished away, for Jareth did not have the time and the rules of the Game dictated that Queen could seize no power from them. The twins raised the children and in turn gave them skills, some left for the other lands of the Underground, some stayed in the Labyrinth. There were so few summons anymore, it hardly mattered where they went or what became of them. But the twins cared, and relished their task. He was proud of his protégés, they were like his own children.

He said it as simply as he could, "Someone dropped Sarah into the Labyrinth. I need you to heal her and to try to find out what happened."

Aidan's jaw dropped again as Nadia whispered, clutching at Jareth's hand, "Sarah Williams?"

Jareth walked back into his chamber, feeling he did not need to answer. They followed him inside and he spoke softly of what had transpired, leaving out only his dream. "She did not even fight the crystal. I put her to sleep and brought her back here," he finished with another sigh. Nadia, now sitting in the chair next to the bed, looked tearfully down at her tightly clasped hands. Aidan had long since begun pacing.

The steward of the Labyrinth and his small court had never relished the Game itself, they respected the power of the Labyrinth and more often than not the wishers deserved their fate and the children received far better care. They knew Sarah had not truly wanted her idle wish, but she had said the words and rose to the challenge. There had never been a player like her, she journeyed through the Labyrinth with a child's innocence and bested Jareth with a woman's grace. She had caught him off guard and he came to respect her for her wit and determination, her blossoming beauty, her apparently endless compassion and kindness.

The power of Sarah's dreams had been extraordinary. The players were always powerful dreamers, for one had to have a certain belief to voice such a wish. Dreams, again. He would offer the player their dreams, and they would either take the crystal before the challenge or receive it when they lost, not knowing that to obtain a dream without achieving it left one unable to form new dreams. They would bask in the glow of their wish and wonder for the rest of their lives why the world no longer held as much spark, as much possibility.

The Labyrinth would take the power of the player's unwittingly forfeited dreams and channel it to the Queen. Jareth received nothing, wanted nothing from such an underhanded deception. He was needed to play the game and keep the Labyrinth in hand. It was a full time job and _she _deigned to be occupied with her fawning sham of a court and every new "toy" that she somehow acquired. It took power and control, things Jareth possessed in abundance, as well as no where else to go. He had been in the wrong circumstances at the wrong time, and the Queen had been fortunate to acquire him.

In Sarah's case, Jareth had been caught. He needed to gain the power his Queen demanded from every run of the Labyrinth, but he futilely wanted to avoid ruining Sarah. There would have been grave retribution if _she_ discovered that they had acquired no power. The twins had watched all of this silently, understanding his pain and his final decision to finish the game.

He had not known whether to be angry or relieved that Sarah had not lost her dreams. He ultimately sent the Labyrinth a portion of his own power, channeling it to the Queen so that she would never know Sarah had escaped.

Ten years later, Jareth was shaken out of his reverie by Nadia pushing him out of his own bed chamber. "Jareth, I know how you like to brood, but I must examine Sarah. And I think that, in light of the circumstances, she would want as little of an audience as possible." He nodded curtly and joined Aidan who had begun pacing again in the hallway. The Goblin King leaned tiredly against his castle wall. He closed his mismatched eyes, wishing he could have kept in contact with Sarah.

He felt the ripples of Nadia's magic emanating from his rooms. She had begun the physical healing process, it would not be long and Aidan could exercise his specialty, the secrets of the mind.

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A/N: Sorry about the wait...I had some writer's block, then some email difficulties w/ my brand new beta...da da da...Kizzy! I want to thank her profusely for her miraculous help w/ this chapter (its so much better now!) so please REVIEW and tell me what you think! 

**WickedGame** - thanks...i like them too...and Sarah certainly has had some distress ;)

**Lady of the Labyrinth** - I think I prefer outcast/tortured Jareth to favored prince/king of everything Jareth...but i'm not so sure about killing Sarah. I would probably make all my readers angry (except you, of course) and them be depressed for weeks...thanks tho:)

**Morrigana** - Thank you for the high praise! and please continue your stories that I live for!

**batteredchild** - yeah...it is more fun when Sarah gets hurt...and she's in for even more of a world of pain in the next few chappies.

**Rene Cresten **- yeah I thought the hypnotic thing was cool too. thanks ;)

Thanks to **melcarisa, ally,** and double thanks to **kizzy**...muah muah muah!

Another chappie on the way soon! hugs and kisses to all my reviewers and readers who did not review (I know you're out there...I can track hits now...muahahahaha!)

atsuibelulah


	4. What Happened?

Chapter 3

What Happened?

She awoke to muffled snatches of conversation, flowing in and out of her head like an ocean tide.

"…could find nothing?"

"Not much…somewhere dark…hidden memories…"

"From my examination…her wounds…_extensive_ torture…"

"…could figure…by looking at her. You could…nothing to suggest…did this to her?"

"…blocking me out…"

The voices were indiscernible from each other until one rose above the others, low and insistent, commanding, "I need to know what happened." Her mind snapped to attention, what _had_ happened?

She had been looking for something. That was all she could remember. It seemed to her that it had been a long time since she had not been searching…

She opened her eyes. The morning light, while soft on her face, still blinded eyes that had been in darkness for so long…her thoughts sharply turned, she would, could not think of that…sleep, eyes that had been in sleep for so long.

She sat up slightly, muscles stiff. As her vision sharpened, a face swam before her eyes, a familiar…no, her mind swerved again and she felt as though needles were being pushed through her skull. The face blurred and she swayed backwards as a strong, gloved hand swiftly, but gently, grabbed her arm, keeping her steady. The low commanding voice, now faintly tight with concern, came out of the haze, "Sarah?" Her eyes snapped open.

A pair of mismatched eyes engulfed her vision. She leaned back slightly in order to see his whole face. He waited patiently as her eyes moved across his countenance, taking in the exotically swept up eyebrows, the nobly high cheekbones, the long straight nose, and the thin lips, encircled by deep frown lines. She thought he looked to be the type who scowled quite often, or smirked, frown lines could also be caused by smirking.

She shook her mind from that strange tangent and found that her gaze had traveled back to his eyes. They were odd, she could not tell if his left iris was brown or green and the pupil seemed to be too large, she half wondered if he was on drugs, or maybe she was. His right eye was ice blue, the pupil narrow and calculating. Her mind flashed eyes of a similar color and a slow red smile. The needles returned and she focused on his left eye, thrusting aside the pain to leave it forgotten, she decided she liked that one better anyway.

She shifted her gaze behind him, almost gratefully realizing his companions had quietly slipped out of the room. The chamber itself was quite large and, as she had discovered earlier, well lit from the large French doors, opening into a small balcony. The bed she had been put in, for she certainly did not remember climbing into it herself, or really anything else for that matter, was immense and covered in fine linen sheets that kept in the warmth, but felt cool against her skin. Also wrapped around her was a quilted comforter of a creamy white color, white and tawny gold feathers were sewn into the quilting and seemed to be sticking out of the fabric as well. It was very warm, and it seemed to her she felt more comfortable than she had in a long time.

She wondered why she was not more surprised by her surroundings. Was this her home? Was this man someone dear to her? He seemed so worried about her. He had called her "Sarah". The name fit somehow, felt right. Should she remember him? Sarah did not even try to search her mind as she met those fascinating eyes once more, knowing she remembered nothing.

* * *

Jareth saw no recognition on Sarah's face as she looked at him, surveying, assessing, he did not know what for. He tried again, "Sarah?" She looked quizzically, almost irritably, at him, as if asking, "What?" 

"Sarah, what happened?" He asked almost tiredly, it seemed to be the only thing he had said in the past few hours. She mutely shook her head at him and he wondered if she had lost the ability to speak, or if she just didn't want to. Jareth realized they had been in the same position for some minutes and reluctantly let go of her arm, noticing Nadia's ministrations had not rid Sarah of all the bruises, or the scarring. She took back her arm, pulling herself slowly to a sitting position. "I will return momentarily," he said and stood, walking to the door. He looked over his shoulder to see her gaze had wandered back to the open balcony doors.

He stepped into the hallway to find the twins unashamedly loitering. Jareth almost ventured a smile, it was a wonder he had not slammed the great wooden door into their eavesdropping faces. He shut the door quietly and asked without preamble, "Was there anything to suggest that she can no longer speak?"

Nadia looked surprised, "You mean lost the ability?"

"Yes."

"When I examined her, her throat was raw from, I can only assume, screaming. But I was able to heal it, along with the rest of her internal injuries and the hedge scratches. I did not have enough energy to treat all of the bruises, but she should be able to speak," she told him decisively.

Aidan had begun pacing once again, "It could be psychological," he paused when Jareth gave him a quizzical look, fumbling to find the best explanation "Umm, she could have…while resisting the torture…trained her body to silence and now…especially if she has repressed memories…has to regain the ability."

Jareth gave a short nod of assent, what Aidan said made sense. He knew Sarah remembered little, if anything of what had happened to her. He needed to find out more, there should be some retribution, some justice given for what Sarah went through.

Jareth went back into the room, not bothering to knock, it was his chamber. Sarah was gone from the bed, looking over he saw her stepping out, onto the balcony. She was so thin, he did not understand how her legs were holding her upright. He followed, watching her at the open doors. No trace of the dirt and blood from Sarah's unknown experience remained and she wore a sheer cotton nightgown with a plunging neckline, capped sleeves, and lace trimmings. Nadia must have pulled it from her own wardrobe after she bathed and healed the battered woman. The garment hung on Sarah's frail body and Jareth thought she must be cold after leaving the warmth of the bed.

Her eyes swept over the vast expanse that was the Labyrinth as if she had never seen it before, the same expression on her face as when he had taken the young girl from her room. Voices of a decade past echoed in Jareth's head.

_Turn back before it's too late…_

_It doesn't look that far._

_It's further than you think…_

He almost wished she had turned back. She would have lost the power to dream, but she would have been spared such pain. Even if she did not remember it now, what she had gone through was plain on her face. Sarah looked ancient, ethereal. Jareth stepped forward to stand next to her, speaking quietly as she stared over his realm, "You are looking at the Labyrinth, Sarah. I am Jareth, the Goblin King. I rule this realm of the Underground and I promise I will not _allow_ any more harm to come to you,"

She had turned to face him, keeping one slightly trembling hand on the balustrade. He let her keep her pride, refraining from offering much needed support until she allowed him to give it. Sarah lifted her hazel eyes, more green in the light of day, to Jareth's own and gave him a slight nod and a hesitant bow. He was relieved that she did not attempt a curtsey, for he was sure she would have toppled. Jareth held out an arm, turning to go back into the chamber and she, not too gratefully, took it and let him help her back to the bed. He looked down at her arm and saw the scars on her wrist again. He realized they would probably never fade completely. Nadia could not have healed them. She did not have the power and not even all the bruises riddled up and down her arms and legs were gone.

As Jareth helped Sarah climb silently back into his bed, he noticed her hair was still a matted, tangled mess, despite being clean. He pulled a crystal and dropped it. Sarah watched his movements with a guarded interest, but raised her eyebrows when a brush and a comb appeared in his hand. The Goblin King sat on the edge of his bed and motioned to her to turn around, not wanting to break the silence of the room. She reluctantly complied, but not without first giving him a definite, "What the hell are you doing that for?" look. Jareth paused a moment before slowly taking off his grey kidskin gloves and Aidan's eye at the keyhole widened in surprise as the King began gently combing out Sarah's long dark locks.

* * *

Sarah had pulled one of the large and fluffy pillows onto her lap and now found herself leaning into it as Jareth continued to brush her hair. She thought it was quite a nice gesture, because she felt sure she did not have the strength to do it herself. It seemed so personal though. She wondered who this Goblin King had been to her. Should she be offended? Was he taking liberties? Somehow Sarah could not bring herself to make him stop. 

She had to repress a shiver of pleasure every time his fingers brushed her shoulders through the sheer nightgown and actually did tremble when he grazed her bare neck. He asked her if she was cold and she shook her head.

Soon the comfortable monotony of his movements, gently pulling at her scalp and brushing across her back, began to make her drowsy and she fell farther forward into the soft but firm pillow. Sarah did not remember closing her eyes, but she opened them instantly when she could no longer feel his presence behind her.

The woman shifted languidly, trying to search him out through bleary eyes. The room became darker and she realized he had gone to shut the doors. Light still came in through the sheer curtains, casting a faint glow onto Jareth's form. He looked at her, a deep but quiet sadness on his beautifully noble features and Sarah thought he looked tired. She smiled sleepily at him and he walked back over, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing back a few strands of clean and untangled hair that had already fallen across her face.

His low voice softly broke the silence, "Go back to sleep, Sarah. You have so much more strength left to regain."

Sarah felt herself being pulled back into the dreamlike haze of slumber, but staved it off a moment longer, reaching out in an attempt to tug Jareth onto the bed next to her. He was tired too.

It was the King's turn to smile before reluctantly acquiescing. "I can only stay a little," he murmured and pulled the comforter around them both. She kept her hand on his arm and a minute later, while deeply dreaming, curled herself against him. Jareth automatically raised his free hand to run through her soft hair.

* * *

A/N: Hello kiddies...had this one ready yesterday but held off to see the feedback from the last chapter... THEN I didn't get any (yeah I know its only been a day, but c'mon like 50 hits and no one wanted to review?) Please, please, please I NEED encouragement on this one! I need to know if you think I'm doing justice to the characters...if their reactions and dialogue are natural...i want to know if you like what's happening! PLEASE REVIEW! 

Big thanks again to my beta, kizzy, who spotted cliched dialogue (hopefully i made it a little less on the revision) and gave me a very nice compliment...muah

On another note...REVIEW my story please! and tell me if you can come up w/ a better name for this chapter...I couldn't come up w/ anything good...maybe if I ask you questions you'll review ;)

muah...atsuibelulah

PS...finally remembered to stick in the disclaimer...guh...I do not own Labyrinth. I probably don't even own Aidan and Nadia...I could have pulled them out of my subconcious memory from one of the billions of books and stories I've read in my life...;D


	5. Through the Veils

Chapter 4

Through the Veils

Jareth allowed himself only a few moments with the peacefully slumbering Sarah before quietly leaving her embrace. He padded to the door as softly as possible, slightly irked at himself for staying at all. He should have begun searching for the answer to what happened to Sarah. He could not let himself get distracted…. He stopped his train of thought suddenly. Distracted by what? Sarah? Jareth stepped through the door, closing it and leaning against the smooth, earthy wood and paused to pick through his constantly roiling emotions surrounding the girl, no woman.

The fearless girl of a decade ago had grown into an astonishingly beautiful woman. Not that Sarah had been unattractive, just so young. He had used her desires against her, but only for the sake of the game. He had never really thought of her in…that way. Jareth let a huff of air escape from his nostrils, the beginnings of a cynical laugh. Romance had seriously been lacking from the Goblin King's life, not unsurprisingly, since he joined the Shadow Court. He was not inexperienced, hardly that. But he was out of practice. And why was he even thinking about romance?

Jareth pushed himself almost violently from the door and began stalking down the corridor. Aidan and Nadia had left. He pushed them from his mind, he would summon them again if he needed to. His thoughts turned back to Sarah. Sarah on his balcony, fighting her weak body for control, determined and proud, Sarah in his bed, smiling sleepily at _him_, showing concern for _him_.

He wondered how long that would last when she regained her memories, and knew she would not listen long enough to hear the truth. She would never believe the truth that he had wrestled with his conscience as long as possible before reluctantly deciding to _really_ play the game for the sake of the innocents that inhabited his realm, that he had vomited from disgust with himself after he toyed with the heart of a fifteen year old girl, that he had spent the span of a full night explaining to the guileless Labyrinth why it should take a portion of his own power and channel it as Sarah's, that he had been forced to cut her ties to her friends in the Underground to prevent information from getting to _her_, that every time he thought of her after her journey he had an tremendous feeling of regret and had to fight the temptation to seek her out, check up on her. Sarah would never believe that his first instinct when he knew she was the frightened creature in his maze had been to gather her frail body in his arms, that his second had been vengeance.

But Jareth knew he _needed_ Sarah to listen to him, to understand these things. What he wanted most was forgiveness. He wanted it for things Sarah had nothing to do with, but he wanted it from her. He wanted it badly. Shaking his head, he kept on walking

Jareth was too old and too experienced to deny the direction in which his thoughts were going. He had reached the throne room, trudging up the dais, he sat heavily on the throne made of carved rock and bone. He hated the damn thing, inherited with the castle and the bloody stupid goblins, it was uncomfortable but he had no where else to go. He needed to get away from Sarah to think about her logically. Jareth put his head in his hands. He couldn't even do that away from her. He had not realized how much she affected him until she was back in his life, and now the stakes were so much higher.

The Goblin King forced his turmoil-ridden mind to focus on what had happened to Sarah. There was no doubt that Sarah was unable to tell him herself, he would have to find the information elsewhere. Jareth would have to go Above. He would have to return to where Sarah's journey began.

The Goblin King closed his tired eyes and reached out for the Labyrinth. He always made it a point to communicate with his realm before taking the power he needed to journey to the Aboveground, to break through the veils. When Jareth made contact with the maze he could feel it was still shaken up by the events of last night. He vaguely wondered why the Labyrinth should care so much for Sarah's well being. It could not be upset by the violence demonstrated on the woman, for its own nature was of a brutal magnificence. Maybe, like Jareth, the spirit revered the rarity of Sarah, recognized that she was important and should be protected. No one else had ever completed the game.

Jareth reassured the Labyrinth that Sarah would be alright, if not now, soon, and tried to communicate the importance of finding out what had happened to her. The spirit seemed to shy away from this idea, nervousness and a slight sense of dread permeated its primitive mind. Jareth wondered how much his realm knew about the matter, but could not ask. The spirit would probably not even understand the question, let alone answer it.

Jareth felt himself becoming frustrated with his ignorance, but did not desire to upset the Labyrinth anymore than necessary. He restrained his mounting irritation, politely asking for the power to cross the veils and sending a message to Nadia, instructing her to return to the Castle and stay with Sarah when she awoke, before cutting his link with the Labyrinth and taking flight. He knew one person might have at least some answers.

* * *

The Queen watched the white and tawny owl fly Above and her blood red lips curved into a satisfied smile. It would not be long now. Her Steward would discover his mistress' role in the creature's destruction, she was sure of that. He had never been lacking intelligence, just luck and some judgment. However, his mistakes had been made long ago. She knew him to be wiser now. The Queen wondered if his soul was still that of a pathetic dreamer. She would find out soon, and either way, this game was much more interesting than her last few toys had been.

* * *

Jareth flew through the veils between the worlds, Aboveground and Underground. One would think the experience would be like ascension, going Above. In reality, it was no direction. Traveling through the veils was a tricky business, easy to get lost in the haze and mist. Creatures of both worlds' legend stalked unknowing travelers to the present day, making the place that is nowhere their hunting territory, their playground.

But Jareth had traveled the same roads for so long that none would bother him any longer. He used the power taken from the Labyrinth to propel himself into Sarah's world, coming out at one of the sites where the veils become thin, the park where the young girl would practice her favorite lines. He often wondered if Sarah's proximity to such a magically rich place had affected the power of her dreams, if that was why she had been so strong. Jareth knew he may never find out and consciously ceased the buzzing of his mind.

Jareth flew to the house, alighting on the tree outside of Sarah's bedroom window. The window was surprisingly open, but the room itself was dark. Dusk had settled across the sky while he had been in the veils. It cast orange and purple shadows into the room. The Goblin King transported himself the short distance into Sarah's room, changing back into his normal form. As soon as he entered the room he felt another's presence and smiled slightly, keeping to the shadows. It was just the person he was looking for.

"Who's there?" a boy's voice, quavering with fear, penetrated the silence from behind the bed, Sarah's bed. It seemed he had been sitting on the floor, in the dark.

Jareth considered the question and for a moment, and decided not to say anything, for the moment. There was a long silence and then, "S-show yourself," Toby barely demanded and Jareth sighed, he had almost let himself get caught up in the game again. He did not want to frighten the boy into bolting, he needed to talk to him. He stepped forward. The light shifted and now he could see the boy and the boy could see him. Toby's blue eyes widened and he slowly stood up from the floor in shocked amazement.

"You, you're…" the boy began, but shut his mouth with a snap and his expression darkened, "Where's Sarah?"

Jareth was taken aback by Toby's immediate recognition. He, always creative with his entrances, had had a whole speech prepared, but now was forced to improvise. He needed to draw the boy into a conversation, he needed his trust. "It is extraordinary that you remember events of a decade ago, young Toby. I am impressed," he pronounced with a smile.

The boy looked away for a moment, "I don't remember much. But Sarah described you so vividly when she told me the story…I would recognize you anywhere." He looked up again, "Where is she?"

Jareth was once again surprised, this time that Sarah would have wanted to tell the boy about any of it. He assumed she would try to forget, to go back to the normality of Above. He felt no more need for light conversation. Toby looked like a boy who had done some premature growing up, Jareth would be straightforward. "Safe."

"In the Underground?"

"Yes."

"What happened to her?" Aye, there's the rub.

Jareth closed his eyes, "I don't know."

"Oh," it was Toby's turn to sound surprised.

"I was hoping you could help me. Give me information about her, her life, her job…anything." Jareth was starting to loose his control. What if the boy knew nothing?

"You haven't been watching her?"

Jareth felt a jolt of guilt run through him. He should have, he should have damned the Queen before he let Sarah out of his sight, his voice was barely above a whisper, "I…was unable…"

"She's been missing for a year," her brother began slowly. A stab of pain went through his heart at every word as Toby continued, realization coming only too late, "She never forgot the Labyrinth. It stayed with her. I don't remember much about when she was in high school. She doesn't talk about it at all, so I don't know how that was for her. She doesn't keep in touch with any friends from around here though. She studied English literature in college. You know, um, mostly ancient fairy tales, folklore. She didn't want to do anything else. Dad was mad, I remember. He wanted her to be lawyer or go into business. She was valedictorian, she could have done anything. She graduated two years ago and went to graduate school in England…"

Jareth's heart may have stopped, he couldn't feel any part of is body and he lunged forward, violently grabbing the boy by the collar, "England?"

"Y-yes."

"_Southern_ England?" the horror and dread were rising inside him to the breaking point, he began shaking uncontrollably, with the boy still in his unyielding grasp.

In spite of it all, Toby seemed to be handling the situation quite well. Jareth was detachedly impressed as the boy remained calm and answered softly, "Yeah, she was really excited. I think she wanted…"

Jareth cut him of sharply, letting go of his shirt and raising his trembling hands to his throbbing head. He began babbling, "I _know_ what she wanted… Mother and Light of us all, I was _there_…how often do I go to that cursed place…and _she_ gets a new toy, more _entertainment_…but Sarah could not have known…if I had not…but how could I have known she would cling to the Underground?...no one ever beat the fucking maze!"

"Jareth." He finally heard the boy. It seemed like Toby had been repeating his name for some time. The Goblin King looked down at the frightened boy and found the strength to collect himself.

"I apologize young Toby," he said, "I should not trouble you with such matters."

"What happened to Sarah, Jareth?" the boy was becoming more agitated and Jareth cursed himself for a fool. There was nothing for it, he could not leave the boy like this, and he could not explain what had really happened. That was for Sarah to choose. Jareth pulled a crystal.

"Toby," he began speaking softly, manipulating the orb in his black gloved hand. The boy stared at it first with fear, showing some of his sister's strength, but Jareth continued to intone, "I want you to show you something. But sometimes it's hard to see, so you must come closer."

Toby looked almost like he didn't want to, but Jareth's will persevered and the boy stepped forward, a dreamy blank mask softened his features, making him look younger. "What is it?" He asked.

Jareth smiled warmly, "I will tell you. But you must answer some questions for me first. Can you do that Toby?"

The boy grinned widely, "Of course."

"Why did you come into Sarah's room tonight?"

"I missed her. I come in here almost every night," his voice had transformed to a slow monotone and he swayed slightly on his feet, his whole body relaxed, as Jareth kept the crystal moving in his hand.

"Who am I?"

"The Goblin King… Jareth."

Jareth knew what he would do. It would expend less energy, taking memories was much more difficult than disguising them. "Toby, I want you to listen to me," the boy only smiled slightly. "If you listen, I will tell you what this is. Do you still want to know?"

"Oh, yes"

"Tonight you came into Sarah's room as you usually do. You thought about her, you missed her, you looked at her belongings," Toby was nodding slightly, as if in total agreement, "You fell asleep. You dreamed of the Goblin King from Sarah's story. He was frightening, but you were not scared, you were brave, you demanded your sister back." Toby smiled again at this and sighed contentedly. Jareth finished in a more commanding tone, but the boy did not react, eyes half closed already but still focused on the crystal, "When you awake you will only remember this as a dream of deepest sleep and forget soon after. Do you understand, Toby?"

"Yes, dream…forget…what is it?"

Jareth smiled sadly, "If you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams."

"Aahhhh," Toby sighed in peaceful understanding.

"Now sleep, my boy, and enjoy the dreaming of slumber," and he collapsed to floor as Jareth winged out the open window. The sky had turned completely dark as the owl pierced the veils.

* * *

A/N : Thanks to all of my reviewers...although, you know i wish there were more of you...this chappie was sooo much fun to write...the next one is coming a little slower (thanks to me having so many shifts from each of my two jobs...im spreading myself a little think this summer..., but chap. 5 should be up soon. extra special thanks to myfavorite beta, 

**KIZZY** - your comments were taken and thought over...not everything was changed but that's because I like how it sounded too much...I do know i'm on the boundary of OOC-ness but I want to stress that Jareth doesn't like his situation (something that Sarah would not have seen in the movie). Thanks again for your fantastic comments and spelling corrections ;)... mauh muah muah!

**Ally** - Thanks a lot for you're very nice compliments :)

**Ophelia Eternal** - Sarah's history is on the way...in a few chapters...yes yes, I'm drawing it out XD

**Lady of the Labyrinth** - All will be revealed in the next few chappies...sans Sarah's death...i know...im sorry ;)

**fish** - A Sarah freakout is commin up...

**Sali** - thanks!

disclaimer: do not own labyrinth...would be kind of weirded out if did...maybe will marry into the henson family fortune...that would be nice ;)

muah

-atsuibelulah


	6. Lost and Found

Chapter 5

Lost and Found

When Sarah awoke Jareth was gone. She wasn't surprised and vaguely wondered why. It seemed that nothing had happened to her since arriving in this place that she was surprised or frightened by. Maybe she was in a state of perpetual shock, letting things slide by her, avoiding reaction…or confrontation. Sarah wondered where that thought came from. She remembered nothing before waking up to the Goblin King's face. But her surroundings seemed strange, like things were missing or…her head began to hurt and Sarah decided to stop thinking about it.

The area of the bed next to where she lay was cold. He had left long ago. She felt an intense desire for him to return and wondered again about her natural reactions. What had she been like before the loss of her memory? What kind of person was she? Why had she lost it in the first place? What had she been searching for?

Sarah took in the chamber and realized it must be his. She smiled, it suited him so well. The bedcovers were like his hair, warm ivory and feather-soft. All the furniture was made of a light brown wood that was swirled with an earthy green color, adding a comfortable and inviting look to the light of the fabrics. She was reminded of his eye, the one she liked. The various ornate sconces and lamps were made of a darkened bronze and shone brightly in the light of the setting sun.

Sarah looked out through the crack between the curtains of the windowed doors. The dusk painted the sky violet, orange and red, a frightening beauty, and she wished again that Jareth would come back. She was jolted out of her reverie by a soft knocking. Sarah stared at the great wooden door diagonally across the chamber from the bed. For some unknown reason, she had no idea what to do. She should call out, tell her visitor to come in. She wasn't undressed, there was no reason not to, but as she moved her lips no sound would come.

She felt panic taking hold of her, sending shivers up and down her body. Was she unable to speak? Had she never had the ability? Sarah couldn't remember. A thousand questions pounded on her subconscious mind, and she felt each answer just barely slip through her trembling fingers. Why couldn't she remember? A strangled cry flew, unbidden, from her throat. The ice cold panic rose higher. She could produce sound, why the hell couldn't she speak?

The door opened slowly and Sarah's panic transformed to irrational terror. How was she to know what was behind that door? She began to scramble across the large bed, trying to make her way to the corner of the chamber opposite the door, as far away as possible. She froze when the visitor emerged slowly and soundlessly from the corridor, a tray of steaming food in her arms.

Sarah consciously reigned in her fear, hands tightening around one of Jareth's feathery pillows. She would not show weakness. If she could not remember her real nature, she would invent one, she would take charge. She stilled herself on the rumpled bed and fixed her gaze on the visitor and thought at first it was a woman made of gold.

A few seconds later she wanted to laugh at herself, but could not put out the effort even to smile. Sarah was comforted by the fact that the woman did enough smiling for the both of them. She was taller than Sarah and sturdily built but with voluptuous curves encased in shimmering pale yellow silk that flowed to her bare feet. Her warm amber eyes were focused on Sarah and a concerned smile was fixed on her golden visage. Golden bronzed hair fell in large dramatic curls down her back and past her waist. Sarah thought she had never seen a more beautiful woman and then wanted to laugh again. She felt herself smiling back at her guest and her fear was forgotten.

The woman spoke with a low musical voice as she placed the tray on a table positioned along the wall, "How are you feeling, Sarah?"

Sarah had little idea of how to answer and found herself making a vague questioning gesture with her hands. Had she been feeling bad? She recalled she had been shaky when she was on the balcony with Jareth and thought it was only fatigue, but remembered nothing else.

The woman chuckled quietly, "Sorry, silly question." She curtseyed shortly at Sarah, who found the action quite disconcerting, and spoke again, "I am Nadia. My brother, Aidan, and I are vassals of the King. Jareth has sent me to make sure you are cared for while he is away." Sarah smiled at Nadia's use of his given name and realized the woman had just indirectly told her much about the relationship between this King and his vassals. She suddenly felt very ridiculous, perched precariously near the edge of the bed.

It was obvious what she had been doing immediately before Nadia walked in, but Sarah's visitor did not comment at all. Only smiled once again and pulled a long, thin piece of wood out of a pocket, hidden in the deep recesses of her gown. Sarah realized it was a matchstick just before Nadia struck it on a rough stone she had produced from some other pocket.

The golden woman moved about the rapidly darkening room with the long matchstick in her hand, holding it like a wand, lighting the many candles interspersed along the walls and on surfaces. She smiled again at Sarah when their eyes met and answered a question that was barely formed and could not be voiced, "We do not use power lightly in the Labyrinth," she paused and thought a moment, "Well, one person does. But he likes candlelight anyway."

Sarah thought at first that by "power" the woman meant electricity, but she realized immediately that that was what was missing from the room. Modern technology…there _was_ no electricity. Sarah had not seen one lamp or light switch or…how could she have not noticed? She was in an actual _castle_. Sarah felt the panic rising again within her and fought to control herself. She recognized the fact that it was not her surroundings that were making her upset, it was that she had _forgotten_ something so mundane, so essential to normal life. Sarah wanted to cry. This place could not be her home. She would not have reacted with confusion to the lack of electricity.

Sarah felt Nadia's comforting presence on the bed next to her and a hand rubbing her back gently. It was at that point that the tears started to flow. And she had thought not to show weakness…Sarah cried harder. She turned into the beautiful golden woman's waiting arms and heaved wracking sobs for so long, Sarah began to think that she was now crying for other, deeper reasons. She could not remember but did not cease.

"Shhh," Sarah finally heard Nadia's softly lilting murmurings, "Look, Sarah, the sun has almost set completely. You must eat something," the golden woman smiled once more, "None of us know how long it's been since you've eaten. That can't be good."

Sarah began shaking with silent laughter, for no other reason than sheer desire to do nothing else, and pulled herself up from Nadia's tearstained lap. The tray of food, consisting of roast chicken and some cooked vegetables that Sarah could not identify, was still warm and very good, although she did not eat much. Nadia joined her in the meal and the two ate in companionable silence.

When they were both done, Nadia stood up from the table and looked Sarah over, an appraising, then considering air about her. She began to move her hands in swift, decisive motions, spoke a single word, and to Sarah's surprise, thrust her right hand into a pocket of the flowing dress, pulling out a long pale green piece of fabric. Sarah's eyes widened only slightly and Nadia let out a playfully irritated huff, "That was some fancy bit of magic, Sarah! You should be more impressed."

Sarah thought that she should have too and belatedly loosened her jaw as she lightly smacked her hand against her cheek in mock awe. Nadia laughed as she motioned to Sarah to stand up, shaking the cloth out a little before holding it up to the woman's wasted frame. "I pulled this from one of the older children's closet. It's a simple design so if it doesn't fit you properly it won't take much to fix." Sarah looked down at the fabric being held up to her and realized it was a dress, shaped in the form of a loose robe that could be tied to fit a number of sizes.

When the pale green dress was on Sarah and tied properly, hugging her slim body, she fingered the fabric as Nadia bent low to adjust the hem that fell just below the knees, it felt cool against her hands, shimmering and light. Sarah marveled that even the fabrics of this place felt magical. How did she end up in such a place?

Nadia's voice penetrated her thoughts halfway into a sentence, "…can get out of this stuffy room now."

Sarah hardly thought the room was stuffy, but smiled at the golden woman and mouthed a "thank you." She found herself wondering what the rest of Jareth's home was like.

Several minutes later the two women walked barefoot by the light of a single candle through the dark, dusty halls of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. Sarah thought they were quite bare, dark and silent from disuse. She listened as Nadia explained, "You see, Sarah, Jareth hardly ever physically walks through the castle. He can just transport himself from place to place, so he doesn't need to. The only things that really come through many of the passages are the rats and the goblins."

Sarah started at the mention of goblins and then mentally smacked herself on the forehead. Of course there were goblins, the man was the frigging _Goblin King_.

Nadia continued, unaware of either Sarah's confusion or inner thoughts, "Jareth really has no need for a serving staff. He conjures his own food and clothing. He keeps mainly to his rooms, study, the gardens, and the library. I believe he will remember to furnish a room for you when he returns. I don't have the power to conjure everything that you will need."

Sarah nodded and mouthed another "thank you".

She smiled, "Well, I wouldn't have actually done anything there. But you're welcome anyway. Now, where would you like to go? The gardens or… the library…" at that Sarah nodded emphatically and opened her hands like a book for good measure.

"Alright, alright, the library it is then," Nadia said, laughing as she led Sarah down another corridor.

They were passing by a pair of large bronze doors, Nadia looking slightly uneasy, when suddenly a booming sound shook the castle, causing the two women to clutch at the walls. Nadia swore under her breath and said, by way of explanation, "The goblins… ah… can get a little rowdy if Jareth goes away for too long. He is the only one they pay attention to." The golden woman shoved herself irritably from the wall and handing the candle to Sarah, directing her slightly bewildered companion, "Just stay here for a minute, ok? I need to go take care of this. It shouldn't take too long." Nadia gave Sarah a quick smile and muttered under her breath, "Adrian, I'll need your help," before twisting in a swirl of fabric into the form of a small bird and zipping down the passageway.

Sarah stood, waiting for a few moments, before she became bored. Who knew how long Nadia was going to be. She turned around, idly looking about her by the light of the candle. The corridor itself was unremarkable, dark stone riddled with dust and cobwebs so Sarah turned to the doors. She moved her candle upwards to see the intricate bronze designs better. Each of the two doors were as wide as the span of Sarah's arms and probably twice as tall.

The designs were simple upon first glance, etched in a vaguely late medieval style. Each door encompassed one side of an aisle the viewer looked down into. This struck Sarah as strange because the forced perspective that demanded would not be developed in classical art until the Renaissance. The figures that lined the aisle were all dressed in medieval style dress and armor, although the right door depicted tall, elegant, serene-faced human-shaped figures, while the left was lined with distorted forms and faces, almost writhing with such strong illustrations of hate and anger that Sarah was forced to slide her gaze aside.

Sarah lifted her face upwards to focus on the center of the two doors. It looked like a sun, round and large, spreading lines representing rays across the span of both sides, although quite possibly not as many on the left side. As Sarah strained to look closer, raising herself on tiptoe and squinting through the candlelight, she discerned something almost like the face of a woman, benevolent and ageless, regarding the whole scene with a bemused all encompassing love. Sarah wondered how she could have picked all that up from an etching she could barely see two or three feet above her head, but dismissed it as another thing she had forgotten and decided to enter the room. Maybe she would find something beyond these beautiful doors that could help her.

There were no door knobs or handles, so Sarah pressed her palm lightly against the right side and it swung with surprising ease. She paused and collected herself a moment, strangely nervous, then stepped slowly into the vast room, only assuming it was vast by comparison to the size of the doors. The light of the candle only did so much to alleviate the darkness that encompassed the room around her. Walking a little further in, Sarah saw that on the wall to her left large windows had been boarded up, barring any light.

Busy focusing on the windows, Sarah did not notice exactly where she was walking as she made her way across the wide empty floor and nearly fell as she ran straight into something hanging from the ceiling. She jumped back quickly, images of giant spider webs and giant spiders flashing through her imagination, but as she moved the candle the light revealed a low-hanging chandelier.

She raised the light in her hand higher, trying to see and understand the purpose of such a room, as she did so the space grew brighter. Sarah gasped loudly, the sound echoing among the various muted decorations that the small light had been caught and reflected by. It was a ballroom. Sarah's hands began shaking, almost imperceptibly, as she gazed at the forlorn scene, trying to ignore her reaction and the small beads of wax that began falling onto her hand, pretending she didn't notice.

The ballroom looked as though it had been abandoned in the middle of a party, decorations hung, collecting dust and some half falling down. The floor caught her eye as Sarah walked even further in, she half smiled as her bare feet made small footprints in the dust and discarded glitter that had probably been floating through the air during the ball. She took advantage of her solitude and did a little pirouette, swirling some dust into the air with the force of her movement.

A small light moved with Sarah's candle almost straight in front of her. For a moment, Sarah was startled, but curiously took a few steps forward. The small light bobbed up and down with her steps and she realized she must be before a mirror. Sarah walked forward more quickly, eager to see the end of the ballroom, but stopped suddenly when the candle and mirror illuminated her face.

Sarah stared wide-eyed at the stranger before her and dropped the candle, her hands shaking more violently now. She knew intuitively what she _should_ look like. As she stared at herself, her subconscious randomly threw a memory at her. She saw a girl of about fifteen or sixteen, _herself_, sitting at a vanity strewn with the make-up and personal articles of one at the threshold between childhood and adulthood. She saw her large, hazel doe-eyes, her long dark hair, her creamy white, healthily flushed complexion. That was what she should look like, older of course, but similar anyway.

Sarah gazed at the figure in front of her, taking in the gaunt frame, the hollow cheeks, the dark circles, the scars and bruises. What had happened to her? What hell had she gone through?

Sarah tore her gaze from the reflection, focusing on the mirror itself. Her jaw dropped as she realized it claimed the entirety of the wall and her mind took her down a path to the past.

She saw herself in front of this mirror, the same age as before the vanity. She wore an elaborate gown that seemed to be made of silver and crystal, hair pulled back dramatically and curled with silver and white feathers and ribbon. The sounds and smells of many revelers bombarded her senses. She thought for some reason the mirror should be shattered, she did not like what she saw.

Pain lanced through Sarah's head and she came back to herself, turning from the mirror, from the memory. But her mind was not done with her. The darkness took her just as it encompassed the ballroom. It pulled her in and _she_ would not let her go.

Sarah saw _her_, smelled _her_, felt _her_ touch. She felt the force of her machines, felt the probing of her dark powers, felt the coldness of her dungeon, felt the shackles on her own wrists, felt the searing of her own flesh. She felt the revolting touch of the guards, felt the icy contempt in _her_ hands, in her possessive caresses. Sarah remembered. She had kept nothing, had revealed everything. _She_ had broken her, _she_ had won.

For the second time in as many days Sarah screamed his name, the name that she had tried so hard to forget, to conceal, to protect.

* * *

A/N: I feel like I should have finished this earlier, but I've been working so much and doing other stuff that I couldn't perfect it until late last night. I was actually impatient to write the next chappie but I am hugely pleased w/ this one too. Thanks to all my reviewers (muah to all of you) even tho there are not as many as I would like... :( so...maybe I'll ask a question and I'll get more...oh! Does anyone recognize the line..."the gardens, or the library perhaps?" that somehow ended working its way into my story (totally by accident I swear) and...If you answer my question correctly I'll give you extra thanks next chappie AND I'll read and review your story, if you have one :).

Again..thanks to the reviewers!

KIZZY: muah for your compliments and all the beta-ing! muah muah thanks!

Lady of the Labyrinth: so i'm a mean butt eh? well maybe this chappie and the next one will inflict enough pain on Sarah to satisfy you...and Jareth will feel bad too...how do you feel about that? does it make you feel good? huh?...jk

rachel115: i dunno about vividly...i didn't really think about it. Maybe he's just well read for a 11 year old ;) thanks for the compliments...my folklore knowledge is mostly taken from novels i've read and a little side research on the internet...hopefully ur not an insane expert and stab me for inconsistencies..jk ;) muah

Thanks again to reviewers...please become one soon for all those who have not and I will hansomely reward you (i do not give fluffy reviews!)

next chapter Jareth/Sarah meet and greet ;)...get excited!

muah

atsuibelulah


	7. Mild Confusion

Chapter 6

Mild Confusion

Jareth was nearly to the edge of the veils when he felt that something was wrong. The Labyrinth reached a ghostly tendril of power to him through the mists and Jareth physically _heard_ Sarah's scream. The cold panic that had seized him in her bedroom spiraled into a maelstrom of terror as he wrenched as much power as he could from the Labyrinth and propelled himself out of the veils in half the time it should have taken.

He should have considered the amount of power he was using but he could not stop. What was going on in the castle? Had the Queen returned for her? If that was the case the power no longer mattered, she would cast him out soon enough.

Jareth cast his awareness out into the realm, searching for Sarah's presence. He felt the spirit of the Labyrinth direct him to where the waves of Sarah's pain were emanating from…to ballroom?

_Oh, Darkness take me!_ Jareth swore in his mind. What had possessed Nadia to let Sarah in there, of all places?

The owl was hovering above the Labyrinth, so rather than transforming back to his normal form, then transporting himself to the room, he flew as fast as his wings would take him directly at the section of the castle he knew was the ballroom. Molding raw power into a shield, he dove at the closest of the windows he himself had barred after Sarah's victory.

Jareth collided with the widow in an explosion of glass and wood, dust and glitter. He transformed quickly, his black boots crunching on the debris riddled across his mess of a dance floor and had to wait precious seconds to discern Sarah's form behind all of the airborne dust.

Moonlight had poured into the ballroom when Jareth broke through the large window, illuminating the once dark space. As the dust settled he saw Sarah standing diagonally across the dance floor from him, her candle burning low and discarded on the floor. Her hands were clamped hard against her skull, her eyes were shut, probably against the flood of memories her presence, in this of all the rooms in the Goblin Castle, had inflicted.

Sarah's eyes snapped open, as if the flow had been staunched momentarily. Jareth froze as her gaze pierced through him. He had no idea what to do.

* * *

She had dimly heard his dramatic entrance through the haze of memories good and bad, distant and recent, which were forcing their way into her mind. The ballroom and the mirror had broken through the barrier she had tried and failed to forge in the presence of the Queen. 

Sarah looked up into his mismatched eyes, hands clutching her skull. He was there, in her memories. His presence permeated them, she had physically known him for such a short time, but he was everywhere inside her thoughts. She was missing something...about him, something important. It felt like someone was driving an iron stake through her head as she tried to puzzle out the past. She had got Toby back. She had won. What else was she searching for? Glimpses of vast libraries and dark basement stacks flashed through her mind, interspersed with the hazy memories of the room she was standing in and the site of their final confrontation. Jareth stood, stalk still, across the dance floor from her, a fear in his eyes she had _never_ seen before, Sarah was sure of it.

She searched his face again as echoes of their last meeting played in her mind,

_I have done it all for you…_

_Just fear me, love me…_

_I will be your slave…_

Sudden realization hit Sarah hard and fast, knocking the wind out of her. The pain came shortly after and she screamed again, falling to her knees. She felt the air rush from his direction and Jareth was next to her, hovering, still afraid to touch her, like she would break. He was crouching in the dust and dirt of the neglected floor as she lifted her eyes once again to his. Sarah remembered. She felt the forgotten emotions surge through her and around him. For all of the years after her quest for Toby had ended she had been searching for…, her voice returned with the reclamation of those years from the recesses of her battered mind, it came out slightly hoarse and whispery, "…you."

She saw Jareth's eyes close in a profound statement of defeated resignation that crushed any hope that had been beginning to rise in her from the eventual, if horribly indirect success of her search. She felt the tears from before, burning in her eyes, threatening to break through. Sarah would be damned if she showed him her grief, her childish disappointment. But she knew she was no longer strong enough to keep them in check, as she had done in his presence so long ago. He did not want her. She had come through hell for nothing.

* * *

Jareth could only hear the accusation in the first word Sarah had spoken to him. She might as well have said, _Oh, it's you, you horrible thing_. She hated him. He knew it. She had only returned for the friends _he_ had taken from her. She would hate him even more when she found out about that. 

He looked away and was about to stand up, certain that Sarah would want some time away from him, when his mind registered what the soft, sniffling sounds coming to his ears were. He turned his gaze back to her. She sat in a heap on the filthy dance floor, the simple but dazzling dress Nadia had given her pooled around her. Her arms were wrapped about her shoulders in the same self-protective gesture she had used when he found her. Jareth could tell she was trying desperately to stop the tears from coursing down her face.

She was looking down, the liquid silver drops falling into her lap. He could not stop himself as he slowly reached down to lift her chin, to see her face. His gloved hand barely touched her and she complied, raising her tear-stained face. Jareth thought she looked angelic, even in her sorrow.

Sarah lifted one of her delicately thin hands to his wrist, gripping it with what seemed to be all of her strength. Two vastly different thoughts entered Jareth's mind, almost at the same time. That the Queen could snap her in two if ever they met again, and that maybe he had been too quick to assume, too certain of his impending rejection. These two thoughts forced the same question out of Jareth's mouth before he could consider its wisdom. "Oh Sarah," his voice was heavy with the knowledge he already held and that which he feared to hold, "why…why return?"

Her eyes became unfocused, not seeing him or their surroundings, and Jareth knew Sarah was remembering.

* * *

Jareth's simple question led Sarah's mind on another tangent, only partially related to her answer. 

It was in the dank catacombs of a church library in Glastonbury, during a break from her graduate classes at Bristol University, that she had found the spell, an incantation that would take her through the veils between the worlds, from Above to the Underground. For Sarah, there was no logical thought process, no rationalizations, and no night to sleep on it. This was what she had based her career, her life on. This was what she had been searching for since she had lost contact with Hoggle and Didymous and Ludo.

It had only been a few short, wonderful days that she had been able to see them after her journey through the Labyrinth. And as suddenly as they had entered, they exited her life. They had just stopped answering. She gave up calling after a month with no answer and began her search for another way.

At first she told herself it was a hobby, researching folklore, spending her weekends at the library and not with friends. She would still have a normal life, she would move on eventually. When she got to college and chose her major, English literature with an emphasis on medieval myth and legend, she realized it was more than that. Having so many questions for which she needed answers, Sarah came to a familiar conclusion_Sometimes the way forward is the way back._

That very night she went up to the summit of the Tor, the Glastonbury Tor where all the legends say the veils are thinnest. She spoke the ancient words, praying to all the Gods she had ever heard of that the script had been authentic.

The wind blew hard and Sarah pushed against it, refusing to be deterred. It was not until the low whistling of the air through the trees was transformed to malicious laughter did Sarah even think that someone or something else might have heard her call.

She did not know how long it had been when she came back to herself. Jareth was still looking at her, half expectantly, half almost dreading. Sarah had to force the words from her mouth, it had been a long time since she had last desired to speak, "I…needed to know," she paused not knowing if she was, or even wanted to get her point across. Sarah tried to move closer to him, squeezing his wrist with as much strength as she could muster, which was not much at all, "I had so many questions," she finished vaguely. She saw Jareth take control of his features, but could not tell to what conclusion he had come from her cryptic answer and she wanted to elaborate. She opened her mouth, but could not find the words.

Suddenly a wave of exhaustion came over her and she almost fell into him. Sarah felt his arms wrap automatically around her too narrow waist and pull her lithe body up onto his lap. She very nearly blushed at their closeness, but found she did not have the energy, "mm sorry…" she mumbled and dimly heard his answering chuckle. She wanted to say…or ask something else, something important, but she couldn't get her thoughts in order and he spoke as soon as she opened her mouth.

"Shhh, Sarah," his voice was deep and soothing, sending his warm breath into her ear, "Sleep now, love. We can talk about it tomorrow." She leaned against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, entwining her hands in his feathery hair without thought. The combination of his calming words and his strange, exotic scent, something like a mixture of warm down and cloves brought her to the verge of slumber. _Better than Nyquil_, she thought with a smile and tucked her head under his chin, falling promptly asleep.

* * *

A/N: Holy pooh! that was quick kids...don't expect such fast updating in the future. I think it will take a few days for me to get my thoughts in order for the next chappie. A lot needs to be explained and talked about between J and S and I'm just not sure where to begin...so if you have any suggestions...please suggest them! (IN YOUR REVIEW!) 

Congrats to **Lady of the Labyrinth** for answering my question correctly! I know i didn't give you guys much time to reply, but try harder next time please :)

And thanx to all THREE of my reviewers, and as usual to my lovely beta **kizzy** (muah muah) your grammar fixing was welcome and excellent as usual. I hope I fixed some of the confusion in those couple of sentences XD.

**fish**: yeeeaahhh, i do enjoy the run-ons from time to time, but i'm always so in love w/ my own writing that I try to ignore them...oh well, thanks for your review...get your friends to do it !  
**Snapemoment**: Thank you so much! I'm so glad my story has this effect on you. hehe I kinda does on me too, and I'm the one who wrote it for god's sake :0 but I LOVE stories like that and i'm really glad that's how you feel...spread the word of atsuibelulah! onward and upward! heehee (please ignore) ;D

**Laby of the Labyrinth**: correctomondo! good job...I love that movie too! AND i have updated..really soon...so i guess that makes me a mean butt no longer...excellent! And i like Jareth when he's happy too...and when he's sad..-ish...and when he's brooding...and when he's sexy..which is pretty much all of the time ;D

disclaimer : still trying to weasel my way into the henson family...success so far...none :(

ONE MORE TIME...PLEASE REVIEW!

muah,

atsuibelulah


	8. Power Over Me

Chapter 7

...Power Over Me

Jareth had just turned towards the doors, when a strangled curse erupted from the corridor outside. A split second later, Nadia burst into the room but stopped immediately when she saw her king before her, holding the woman protectively in his arms. Jareth gave his vassal a wintry look. She could tell he was pissed.

"Your Majesty," she began, but was harshly cut off.

"I did not give you leave to speak, Lady Nadia."

She clamped her mouth shut and bowed her head in remembered deference. He slowly walked forward turning slightly to the right to step around her, as if she were something dirty, not worth his whole attention. When he came abreast of her, he cast is eyes askance at his trembling vassal.

She was horribly frightened, having never seen him in this state. She could feel the power roiling off him, but freezing cold, like the look in his eyes. She silently reached out with her mind for the connection she held with her brother, only used for emergencies. She had to make sure Aidan knew what was happening here.

Jareth's countenance took on a vaguely bored cast, as he spoke, a measured and controlled tone to his voice, "You will attend in our study in one hour's time." Jareth continued walking out of the room, but added almost as an after thought, "Inform Lord Aidan that his presence will also be required," before he vanished with the frail woman still sleeping in is arms.

Nadia fell to her knees in relief. Aidan would be there. They could both explain. Jareth understood. He just had to control his anger, she hoped fervently. She put her face in her still shaking hands. For most of the many centuries that she and her brother had been in service to the Goblin King, she had always assumed that he had no temper to speak of. He always kept a tight reign on his emotions, rarely opening up even to them. She had not seen him so angry since…Nadia gasped, ten years ago. Nadia suddenly realized the complexity of the situation and that it could have been so much worse. Even a decade ago, Jareth had been angry _at_ no one, just that he had been so helpless, had not been able to protect her. Aidan had told her what he saw through the keyhole. Apparently, neither of them had understood the effect that Sarah Williams had on their king, until her return.

The golden woman stood up, still a little shaky, and turned to see her brother leaning easily against one of the open bronze doors. He had an uncharacteristically concerned look upon his face, his short locks falling into his amber eyes. With his dark gold shirt and tan breeches, it looked like he was melting into the door. Nadia lifted a hand to straighten her slightly mussed hair, and voiced the thoughts that were running through both of their heads, "This could be very good, or extraordinarily bad."

Aidan nodded curtly, "And we don't even know what brought her here. Does Jareth know?"

She shook her head, "I arrived too late. I don't even know what happened in here." She waved a hand at the broken glass and splintered wood all over the floor.

"And how will he react when he does know? Or has to tell her?"

"Aidan, I don't know!" She shouted at him, "We've never had to deal with him like this before," Nadia stopped to consider, "Maybe this is part of his true personality. How are we to know what he was like in the court of the Sun King? He never even told us why…"

She was cut off sharply again, "No," Aidan stepped forward, a strange conviction in his eyes, "You cannot hide such a nature for over half a millennia. I will not believe it."

"You just don't want to believe he would hide anything from us, even though he obviously has. Why would he leave the security of his Father's court? What could he have done…"

"Nadia," a hint of entreating came into his voice, "What does this have to do with Sarah anyway?"

"We never get any further in this conversation, you always stop me. And I wasn't aware we were only talking about Jareth relating to Sarah," she put her hands on her hips in mild exasperation. "We are both going to have to learn and accept new things about Jareth before all of this is over. You had better get used to that idea, and soon." She walked past him to the open doors, "We should get prepared. And it wouldn't hurt to be early either."

* * *

Jareth tenderly placed Sarah once again into his bed, not having the energy to prepare a room for her. He sank into the chair he had left at the bedside, and for the umpteenth time in the past days he put his head in his hands.

_Mother of Light_, he thought, _what am I going to do?_ What could he do? The Queen was Sarah's own torturer and he had practically sworn revenge on his Mistress. And he would have to tell Sarah of his relationship to her captor. _Then she'll definitely hate me_, he cringed inwardly. Why should he care about the love of a "pathetic" mortal? How had he come to?

Jareth knew without a doubt that he would die to protect her. He would never allow the Queen near Sarah again. But he had to figure out how he was going to pull it off….

"Jareth?" He lifted his head to stare directly into her open, semi-alert eyes. Her hair was pulled all to one side of her neck and fell gracefully down to his creamy sheets. Jareth realized she must have had bangs before her imprisonment, for there were a few strands cut shorter to frame her face. In the darkness, it looked like shining black ink, engulfing her. Sarah's voice was soft, and not a little raspy from disuse. Nevertheless, it stilled his ancient heart. "I'm in your bed again."

He chuckled, "So you are, my dear."

"But where are you going to sleep?" She reached out to him and, without thinking he caught her hand in his own.

He was touched by the almost childish concern in her voice, but remembered he had yet to speak to the twins, "I have some things to take care of. I'll be back in a little while."

She smiled wanly and whispered, "You didn't answer my question."

"I imagine I'll conjure up somewhere to sleep," he told her. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with, Sarah. Go back to sleep." He turned towards the door, but her voice stopped him.

"Jareth…I'm afraid," she hesitated, "of what my dreams will bring." Jareth's heart could bear the distance between them no longer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed, he pulled her towards him so she was half sitting up and half in his arms. Their faces were inches apart, he could feel her breath on him, coming fast from exhilaration or fear, he couldn't tell. She spoke again, so softly he almost didn't hear, "Jareth, the reason I…" he stopped her before she went any farther.

"Sarah," he sighed, wishing he could shut out the past, and the rest of the world for that matter. "There is so much that you don't understand."

"Tell me," she whispered in his ear.

"Not tonight. You need to rest, love." He was stalling, he knew it, but for a good reason, this time. She looked at him fearfully and his resolve not to work any spells on her melted, "I can make it so your sleep is dreamless, Sarah. But, I will make it clear at this moment that I will only _ever_ do so with your permission. By doing this you will be giving me a significant amount of power over you." He stopped when her eyes grew wide, but continued after leaving ample time for the idea to sink in, "Do you trust me to do this, Sarah?"

* * *

…_power over me_, she thought, trying not to allow a bitterly ironic smile to cross her face. How badly did she want protection from the dark recesses of her memories?

Sarah looked away from Jareth's patiently waiting face, softly illuminated by the candlelight, and shuddered, thinking how close she had come to reliving the past year, just a moment ago. Instinctively, Sarah knew that when she had been in Jareth's arms, her dreams had been calm, almost pleasant. It was when he had put her in the bed, when he had let go of her that they had begun to turn in a direction that terrified her. She could almost feel the Queen's touch on her shoulder, the cold hardness of the black stone floor. She had woken up only just in time.

Did she trust Jareth? That was what she had come here to find out, and look where that had got her…begging for his protection. But at what price? It was true that she felt an undeniable attraction to Jareth, her mind had been on him for ten years. But did that mean she could trust him? Sarah remembered how kind he had been since her arrival. She closed her eyes and thought of how he had brushed her hair. He had taken off his gloves.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she felt a finger brush it away. Sarah looked down to the bed, there lay his grey, well-worn gloves. They were different than the ones he had worn when she ran the Labyrinth. She imagined he was trying to send her a message, to tell her she _could_ trust him. She looked up into his face again. He was still waiting for her answer, although with more of a guarded look on his face.

She realized she had kept him waiting for far too long and that he probably thought she would reject his trust. Suddenly something occurred to Sarah, it no longer mattered to her _who_ held the power, only that it was safe… protected.

She spoke the words, clearly and with conviction, she almost thought he would not believer her otherwise, "I trust you, Jareth. You have my permission."

He smiled sadly at her and a crystal appeared in his bare hand. She kept her eyes on his face. He spoke softly, directing her, "You must give yourself over entirely, Sarah. It will not work if you hold back." Still she hesitated, not knowing why. He put a hand to her face, probably sensing her confusion, "It will only take your nightmares, love. I told you, I will only do as you ask."

"I know, I just…" she couldn't explain.

"Sarah, I don't have to," he began, but she broke him off quickly, frightened he wouldn't do it.

She almost savagely gripped the hand that still held the crystal, "_Yes_, you do." She immediately regretted this action. She didn't want him to know how terrified she really was.

His eyes grew wide as he finally understood the depth of her fear and she felt the barrier holding her tears back begin to break, "Oh Sarah, I'm so sorry."

Sarah could no longer hold them back, the tears burst forth, cascading down her already wet cheeks. She threw herself into Jareth's waiting arms and began pleading, "Jareth, p-please…please do it. I can't…please do this for me."

"Shhh, love, I told you I would." They had both ended up on the floor as a result of her quest for his arms. Jareth easily lifted her back into the bed and settled himself at the edge. His voice seemed to hold an echoing musical quality, "Just relax," he soothed, "and let me shield you from the nightmares."

Sarah nodded and he produced the crystal again. The reflections from the candle light bounded across the walls as Jareth manipulated the tool in his hand. She allowed her gaze to finally rest on it and her breath caught in her throat. It was…her mind failed to form the words to describe it. She wasn't really aware of what she was seeing that was so beautiful, but it didn't matter. She would keep looking, maybe even find the answer. The world around the crystal became hazy and unimportant, but a strangely compelling voice came from the haze, "Sarah, can you hear me?"

"Yes," she heard herself answer.

"Will you do as I command?" She realized that this must be the voice of the beautiful thing and smiled.

"Oh, yes."

"Sarah, do you remember what happened in the court of the Shadow Queen? Do you remember what she did to you?" The voice was somber and gentle, as if trying to inflict the least amount of pain.

Sarah's mind flashed images of what occurred in the Queen's dungeons. She shuddered violently, almost coming back to herself, but kept her eyes on the crystal and fled into its depths. "Yes," her voice was barely audible, or maybe it was loud beyond the crystal, she did not know beyond the haze.

"Sarah Williams, you must never walk down this path of memory in your dreams again. You will never be tormented by these deeds in sleep. By the earth and the air and the light that governs them both I bind you to this. Have you heard me?"

A wonderfully soothing peace swept over her as the voice said these words and Sarah thought she might faint. But her eyes stayed on the beauty before her and she answered in a slow, mellow tone, "I have, my lord."

"Will you obey?"

"I will, my lord," each succeeding word became more difficult to pronounce and even the image of the crystal faded into the haze. Sarah's body felt deliciously heavy and a long sigh escaped her lips. She thought she was sinking into something soft and warm as the voice came again, Sarah realized it was Jareth and smiled slowly, "You can sleep safely now, love." She felt his lips rest against her forehead and heard, "Goodnight, Sarah," before she fell into oblivion.

A/N: Why am I constantly ending w/ people falling asleep? weird... This chappie was originally supposed to include more…but once again I was distracted by how Jareth's cool hypnosis magic works, next chappie will include more twins...I like them a lot, yay original characters! I haven't started the next one yet...my grandma's coming to town and i still have work so it'll probably be longer than usual for the next post. loads of thanks to reviewers

**Lady of the Labyrinth**: yes good books! heehee that library story is hilarious XD

**rachel115**: Long reviews are my fav! they'er way more special than short reviews...and update ur story soon! I really like it XD and there really isn't much more to Sarah's story..i think i'll be getting a little tooo dark if i go into much more detail..there is one more aspect that i'm going tot alk about...but i'm waay more into Jareth's mysterious backstory and when it finally gets revealed i hope you like it...PS. i think its gonna take me a while...so don't get too excited. muah!

**Maeriai1121**: hey! that's great..im so glad you started into Laby fiction and that you liked my story...check out my fav stories and authors for more that I know you will love!

A final reminder to REVIEW THIS STORY if you love let me know (if you hate it or are lukewarm..whatever!) REVIEW!


	9. So Tired

Chapter 8

So Tired

Jareth opened the door connecting his bedroom to his study and walked through, exhaustion even in his steps. He found Nadia sitting primly in a straight-backed chair opposite his own modestly cushioned one behind the great mahogany desk. Aidan was pacing as usual. The Goblin King mentally restrained himself from turning on his heel and tucking himself in with Sarah.

Jareth regretted his harsh treatment of Nadia earlier. He could tell the twins were shaken by his behavior. He could not run away, they deserved better. The truth was that he did not know what to tell them. Sarah's pain and his own helplessness had sent him into a state of mind he had not experienced in many years.

As he deliberately walked over to his chair, Jareth's mind mulled over the passions of his youth, which he had so long repressed in his exile. He had always loved deeply, but he suspected something more was developing in relation to Sarah. His anger had burned so cold it almost frightened even him. It had never been that intense in his father's house. Sarah was different, Sarah made _him_ different. Now that was frightening.

The sound of a tentative cough came to his ears and Jareth realized he had been staring off into a corner, lost in his memories and doubts, and the twins were waiting for him to speak. He still had no idea what to say. His behavior had scared them both badly, and had undoubtedly hurt Nadia, but he felt reluctant to apologize. The relationship between the Goblin King and his two vassals was a complicated one, lost somewhere among father, lord, and old friend.

They had spent so many years together but Jareth had kept many aspects of himself and his past apart from them, and had always held his authority over them tightly. He had drawn a line in their relationship early on and they had learned quickly not to cross it. Jareth knew Aidan preferred matters that way. Nadia was the one who would loose patience every once in a while, get sufficiently drunk, so he could not be too upset, and push as far as he would let her.

Looking back after a few centuries, it may not have been the wisest choice to establish things the way he did, but the emotional wounds from his exile were still too fresh to relive for anyone. Jareth was currently trying to figure out how to get out of telling them more than he wanted to, which was nothing.

After looking at his stricken vassals for a long moment, Jareth decided just to launch into the explanation for Sarah's sudden appearance. He began with a question that probably seemed totally out of the blue, "Do you remember the last time I appeared before the Shadow Court?"

The King almost laughed at the absurdity of it all as Aidan gave him a look like he had gone insane and Nadia answered in a slightly exasperated tone, "Yes…"

"Do you remember anything strange about that visit?"

Aidan answered this time, remembering before his sister, "You returned early…something happened, I remember you were upset."

"Yes. Something happened. I never told you, there was no need. At the time I thought it unimportant, not even concerning me, let alone you. It was just an inconvenience, or a stroke of luck, taking up the time I was supposed to spend with the Queen." Jareth grimaced at the bitter irony of the whole situation as he continued, reluctantly warming to his tale, "I was approaching the throne, ready to bow and scrape and excuse whatever faults she had found throughout that year, when I saw the maddest grin break across her face. She stood and pointed directly at me. She said quite calmly that my presence would not be required until the next year's audience and that I was free to leave. I turned around and left the hall. It was all a little unsettling. When I reentered the waiting chamber, I asked that ancient chamberlain of hers…Accolon, what she had been called away to. He told me a mortal had summoned her from the Tor." Jareth paused to catch his breath and Nadia spoke as realization dawned.

"Oh yes, Glastonbury was always the place of her highest power. It must be the only place that she can reach without the aid of the Labrinth now."

Jareth started up again, "Yes, and she can only take those who call her. Nowadays, not many do, I imagine she was quite ecstatic, she is able to do whatever she pleases with them. You have heard the type of things that go on in her dungeons?"

Aidan nodded mutely and Nadia shivered.

"I crossed the veils to speak with Sarah's brother," they both started at this change in subject, and Jareth continued before the could voice any questions, "He told me three pieces of crucial information: Sarah did not forget her experience in the Labyrinth, she didn't even try to, she has been missing for a year, and she had been studying in Southern England."

Nadia's eyes were wide as her hands flew to her mouth and Aidan sank to the floor, for there was no chair nearby, and put his head in his hands. Allowing time for these revelations to sink in, Jareth tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He was so tired.

A few moments later, when he reopened them, Aidan had stood and was pulling the other seat in the room towards Jareth's desk and Nadia was still sniffing from the short cry she'd allowed herself on Sarah's behalf. Jareth reached across the table and clasped her hand. She looked up and he asked her quietly, "What happened this evening? Why was Sarah in the ballroom?"

She looked like she would burst into tears again, but held them back saying, "Oh Jareth, I was so careless. I didn't think about what room we were standing in front of. When she woke up we talked a little, then she had a small cry," Jareth's gaze darkened slightly at this statement, but she continued not noticing. "We ate dinner together, and I asked her if she wanted to see some of the castle, get out of the room for a bit. She wanted to see the library, so we had to pass the ballroom. I knew you wouldn't want me to take her there, and I was trying to just go past it quickly, but then the castle shook. The damn goblins were up to some mischief, you know how they get. I called Aidan to help me take care of it…I thought they were going to blow off a chunk of the castle…" she was beginning to get flustered, afraid of his anger, he raised his hand slightly and she ceased. Jareth knew it was an honest mistake, and really no lasting damage had been done. It was probably a blessing that Sarah's memory had returned sooner rather than later.

"You need not fear, Nadia. I was not angry at you earlier. I do not blame you for today's events, they would have happened one way or another. I have frightened you both, and for that I apologize. Things are going to be happening very quickly now and I want you two to prepare yourselves and the children in the settlement."

His voice had quickly transformed from the informal to the official and Nadia took that cue when she spoke, "Your Majesty, may I ask _what_ will be happening now?"

He straightened in his chair and told them calmly, "There has always been a way to escape from this place, but there was never a need dire enough. I will take that path, if the Shadow Queen does not come for us all first." They took the finality in his voice as a dismissal and quietly stepped into the corridor as Jareth leaned back in his chair.

He felt his exhaustion eating away at rational thought and let himself sink into memory. Dreams: they had always been at the center of everything. They were the heart of Sarah's quest and Sarah's pain, of his role in the Labyrinth. It went as far back as his childhood, and his exile.

When Jareth was still very young, when he was still at his mother's skirts, she had said he was a strong dreamer. He remembered often not being able to distinguish between the dream and reality. Looking back, he thought that it was not such a feat, not in the court of the Sun King, where the dreams of many _were_ reality and vice versa.

The court of Jareth's father was a place of ancient stoic ritual and extreme private excess. His mother had abhorred everything about it and had instilled a deeply buried resentment in her only son. It was a resentment that Jareth thought to rid himself of and take his place beside his father, and he almost succeeded.

As he grew older, it was no longer difficult to distinguish between dream and reality but his dreams were always vivid and the line between the dreams of his sleeping mind and the dreams of his dormant heart was often blurred. When the ritual began the dreams had come in such a force, of a future he would never see, a love he would never hold. It was because of the dreams that he had refused to complete the rite, refused to pay the price. After they exiled him, the dreams stopped altogether and Jareth only remembered them in a haze, when before they had been as clear as if he had been living them.

A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye, he let it fall. Maybe they had been a test he had failed. Maybe they had proven him a coward. If he had only paid the price none of this would have happened. The twins would have stayed above, as would have every other child. _She_ would have never been able to hold the Labyrinth, and Sarah would be safe, never running the maze, never tormented by the Queen.

Jareth shook himself and stood up quickly, irritated for wallowing in self pity, and nearly tripped over his desk. Cursing the desk for being in his way and himself for being so tired, Jareth stumbled into his bedroom. Actually forgetting until it was too late that Sarah was sleeping in his bed. He looked down at her peaceful form from the opposite side of the bed and knew he did not have the energy to conjure even a footstool at that moment. So he did the only thing possible, collapsing heavily onto the mattress, still completely clothed. Sarah didn't even stir, and after a moment, neither did he.

* * *

A/N: More sleeping characters! but give me a break, Jareth hasn't slept in like 24 hours..he's TIRED. So I like this chappie, hope you do too...thanks to KIZZY the bestest beta..muah muah muah, and thanks to my reveiwers...but how is it that I only ever end up w/ three? c'mon kids! gimme some feedback I wanna make this as good as possible..if you do or don;t like something then let me know!

Jibiathon: thank you...you're in luck, I've been pretty consistent about my updating...no seriously long stretches or anything...keep reviewing!

SnapeMomentcom: awwww thanks! whatever you say is totally fine, as long as you mean it in a good way :) and I am way too into this story to stop updating now XD

Lady of the Labyrinth: i think its a little from column A, a little from column B, but Jareth wouldn't abuse the power Sarah's given him so don't get too concerned. Its just another thing to bring them closer together XD. It is Nadia, (I think I may have too, a couple times) and I like her too, hopefully I've made up for making her sad :\

Thanks again to my lovely reviewers...please give me more!

next chapter has a rough outline, but if its anything like this one it will fall out of my head in a two to three hour period. Get excited XD


	10. Dreams and Questions

Chapter 9

Dreams and Questions

Sarah awoke slowly from a blessedly dreamless slumber, something was tickling her nose. She thought it was one of the many feathers on Jareth's quilt and repeatedly attempted to blow it away but the annoyance doggedly kept returning. Having finally woken enough to open her eyes, Sarah did so and had to bite back a squeak of surprise.

_Jareth_ was _asleep_ next to her. His face was about an inch away from hers, it was a strand of his unruly mop that hadn't left her alone. She timidly flicked her eyes from his peaceful face to the rest of him and, wavering between relief and regret, noted that he was fully clothed. He was still wearing the same garments he'd had on the previous night. _He must have been exhausted_, she thought, _he was returning from a journey, wasn't he?_ She wondered if she would get the chance to ask him any questions. There were too many things that she did not understand about the Underground; Sarah thought that maybe she didn't want to know.

Despite the fact that she remembered _what_ happened to her, she did not remember _everything_. There were even some things from the aboveground she did not remember. In fact much of her time in England was a blur and high school it seemed she had blocked out altogether. Sarah felt that the more she learned about the Underground in general, the more specific things she would remember about her imprisonment. And that she _really_ did not want.

Mid-morning light poured into the chamber, casting everything in a warm yellow glow. Sarah stretched, trying to disturb the sleeping king as little as possible, and wondered what she should do with herself until Jareth awoke. Shifting, she looked him over again, taking in the sleep-rumpled black silk shirt and linen breeches, smiling when she saw he had not even bothered to remove his knee-high black boots. He was sprawled, rather awkwardly, across his side of the bed. His face was turned towards her, his ivory hair tangled amid her own dark locks. One of his arms was bent loosely across the mattress, almost as if he were reaching towards her, she thought the other one was hanging off the side of the bed. His hands were gloved, and Sarah wondered if he forgot to take them off, like the boots, or if he always slept in them.

She looked back up to his face, his mouth hung slightly open, his wild bangs fell into his closed eyes. Sarah's hands itched to brush them away, to touch him again. She recalled the close contact they'd had when she didn't remember him. He had sent shivers through her body even then. Sarah's thoughts now ran along a familiar path, ever since her victory she would remember something about him, a single insignificant thing, and the barrage of questions would begin. _Why had he said all those things at the end? Were they a ploy to defeat her? Did he mean them at all, or did I plant his sincerity in my memory later?_

Sarah was so caught up in her thoughts she did not realize her hand had moved until her fingers reached his hair, brushing the short strands across his un-furrowed brow. She held her breath, Jareth didn't stir. Sarah's hand moved of its own accord from his brow, down, tracing his jawline and high cheekbones.

Suddenly, he shifted in is sleep, moaning slightly and turning closer to her. Sarah snatched her hand back and bit her lip, waiting for him to wake up. But he didn't. Jareth's brows knit together in a look of profound torment as his lips moved, murmuring soundlessly. Sarah froze, unsure of what to do, until his voice finally broke through, though she knew he was still sleeping, "Mam chan olau, chyfnerthu 'm." She didn't understand the words, but Sarah heard his plea and could not ignore it.

Sarah put her hands on either side of his sorrow twisted face, pulling him to her, their foreheads touching. His hand moved to grasp her arm and she thought he may have awoken, but his eyes were still held tightly shut as he whispered again in words she did not understand, but heard his desperation rising, "O Manon…Mam, 'r breuddwydion ewyllysia mo cer…ewyllysian mo ad 'm bod…ewyllysia mo ad 'm anghofia 'i."

"Shhh, Jareth," she murmured and his eyes opened. He looked at her in confusion for a moment, she pulled her head back but did not let go of him.

"Sarah," he said it flatly, as if trying to convince himself she was not someone else. He let go of her arm and she took that as a cue, reluctantly removing her hands. Jareth sat up slowly and put a gloved hand to his head, "Forgive me, Sarah, I…" he paused seeming at a loss.

"Are you alright?" She broke in, sitting up as well.

* * *

Was he alright? Jareth didn't know. He had been dreaming…again. He knew it was the same dream he almost always had, the dream he'd had since childhood that he could no longer remember. But he had remembered it after he awoke to hands on his face. Cool, lovingly tender hands, how his mother would wake him when he'd dreamt too deeply. He had thought he was sleeping in his mother's bed, still small, still able to remember the dreams because they were not so far from reality. But it was not her voice that had comforted him. It was Sarah, who was night to his mother's day, but their hands had felt almost the same. 

He had been so surprised when he saw Sarah before him that all traces of the dreams fled his mind. He didn't even remember what he had said to her.

"Jareth, what's wrong?" She brought him back, again. He turned back to her, concern on her face, but another question bursting from her lips, "Was that…welsh?"

_Ah, the scholar in her_, he thought but was slightly disturbed that he had been so far gone as to slip into the Ancient Tongue. He answered the second question first, "It is the origin of welsh and the other languages of the British Isles. It is the tongue of the court of my father." She looked at him expectantly and he knew he wouldn't get away without answering the other one, "I…am fine. I was dreaming. It's not something I do very often anymore." She looked like she didn't believe him, but he chose to pretend he didn't notice.

He climbed, in an annoyingly awkward manner, from the bed and dropped a crystal, changing his wrinkled clothes to fresh, crisp white shirt and tan breeches. "I should think it would be easier on both of us if I prepare a room for you," he said looking pointedly at the window; Sarah's moving was the last thing he wanted. But he would not push himself on her, she would come to him willingly, or not at all.

"I'm not so sure…."

Jareth turned back to her and saw the open skepticism on her face. Exasperated, he cried, "I'm _fine_," fully expecting an argument. But Sarah slid, irritatingly gracefully, from his bed, seemingly having decided to drop the subject.

"You got a washroom around here somewhere?" she asked, giving a quick look around the room. He looked at her squarely for a moment and she gave him an innocent smile, saying with the air of faux vanity, "I simply must complete my morning ritual."

Jareth was taken aback by the sudden change in her mood, but decided to reward her cheek with a short chuckle and pointed to a door in the corner, almost next to the window, "Through there you will find working plumbing, although undoubtedly rudimentary for you, complete with toilet, sink and bathtub."

Walking to the door she commented, "And here Nadia led me to believe you do everything for yourself with magic."

"My dear," he answered with an impish smile, "I can conjure food and clean house, but one thing I will not do with my power is take care of my own waste. You must forgive me for being a tad uppity."

She replied with a silvery laugh that made Jareth's heart beat faster. _Just like a schoolboy,_ he thought with mild disdain and began setting out their breakfast.

* * *

Sarah returned from the not quite spotless, not quite dry bathroom, trying to get over her irritation at having to put down the toilet seat, _It's still just a medieval castle, and he's still male, human or not_, she thought with a wry smile. She had cheerfully decided to forgo a shower that morning, still feeling relatively clean from the day before and not quite ready to tackle how to work Jareth's ancient plumbing. The toilet and sink were self explanatory, but the shower was a whole other story. 

Breakfast was a quick and quiet affair of steaming eggs and sausage set on a table that Sarah was sure had not been there before. The conversation was seriously lacking, Jareth seemed to be off in another world and she had so many questions it took her the whole time to decide which one to start with. Then she began to tackle the problem of whether she really wanted to know.

When it seemed as though they had both stopped eating, their gazes met across the table and Jareth stood, almost hastily, and held his hand out to her, "Come, we will prepare a room for you." Sarah looked at his hand then at his beautiful face and thought with an irrational inner wicked smile that she would definitely prefer to stay where she was, but shook it off and took his hand anyway.

They walked together a short ways down the corridor and Jareth pushed open the next door they came to. "Right next to _you_, huh?" she asked walking into the dark room.

He gave her a look like it was obvious, "Well, I don't want you halfway across the damn castle, do I?"

She smiled slightly and nodded, "I guess not. Why do you have the windows boarded up?"

"Goblins enjoy breaking glass," his answer carried contempt and a sneer she knew was not for her.

Sarah stepped further into the bare and dusty room, but turned when she saw him moving. A crystal appeared in his hand, she loved to watch him work magic. His movements were extraordinary, so natural and instinctive. The crystal dropped to the floor and the transformation began. It spread in a great circle, moving across the floor and up the walls to finish with the central light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

Sarah moved her feet in another circle on the newly polished walnut floor, turning; she took in the dark sage green walls and pale lilac fabrics on the four poster bed and French doors. The room was very similar and complimentary to Jareth's in color palate and layout. The walls and wood were a little darker, but all the furniture design was the same. A wardrobe and demure vanity was added along one of the walls, next to the bed. Sarah loved it and twirled around, arms outstretched. It had been a while since something had made her feel so carefree, so…happy.

She turned back to see him smiling hesitantly at her, leaning against the wall, "So, do you like it?" Sarah tried to ignore the hint of concern in his voice.

She couldn't stop the grin from breaking across her face, "What do you think?" She turned and almost skipped out onto the small balcony, leaning against the balustrade and waiting for him to follow her. Sarah decided that she didn't care if she was acting childish, it was exhilarating and she wanted it to last as long as it could.

When he joined her, Jareth's smile had turned slightly melancholy. He leaned with her and took her wrist in his gloved hand, brushing his thumb lightly over her thick scars, "I am so sorry, Sarah"

Her bubble of happiness popped as Sarah realized she would not be able to escape her past by pretending it did not happen. Jareth had seen through the pretense that she hadn't even known she'd adopted. Despite this, she still wanted to turn the conversation from the direction it was going, "Where did you go yesterday?"

He dropped her wrist and looked away, "I needed to find out what happened to you. I needed information. So, I went to talk to Toby."

"And he gave you the information you needed?"

Jareth answered through gritted teeth, "Yes." She thought maybe he didn't want to talk about what happened to her either.

But she couldn't stop herself from asking, "You didn't _do_ anything to Toby, did you?"

He shot a sidelong look at her but said nothing.

"Jareth, what did you do to Toby?" She grabbed his arm.

"Nothing serious," he said, apparently just realizing how concerned she was, "I questioned him…trying to find what happened to you. I realized it when he was present and… let some things slip. He was agitated, of course. I couldn't leave him with the knowledge. It's for you to decide what he should know about all of this…I changed his memories of that night into a dream."

A thought suddenly occurred to Sarah and she hesitatingly began, "…Could you…" she could not finish the sentence and closed her eyes against his answer.

"No." It was flat and final.

She turned sharply and looked at him, "Why not?" It was for her to decide wasn't it? He said he would not take the power to decide from her.

He looked at her stricken and back up a few steps, "I…won't do it. I can't do it."

"Why?" she said, alarmed as he turned away, "What is it?"

"It would be so easy," he almost whispered.

"_What?_"

"Oh, don't think I am not able to, Sarah." Something in him seemed to snap and he gave her a strange look, one she had never seen on his face before. It was almost predatory. "It would only be too easy…to take those memories from you…to switch some other things around while I'm at it. I don't know if you realize, Sarah, how close you could be to that fate. It would be _so much_ easier that way. _She_ would not bother me about it if I broke you," Sarah visibly flinched at the word 'break', "That's probably what she expects me to do. She wants to see how far I've turned to her way of doing things. It doesn't really matter anymore…I could do it. You've already given me the power. Every time it would become easier," Before Sarah could express her rapidly increasing horror Jareth's words began to take on the same echo she had heard the previous night. Her body relaxed from a position she had not realized was uncomfortable. Without thinking, she took a step towards him, then another. Now he was whispering in her ear, the echo in his voice expanded and the room and the castle and the Underground vanished from her awareness, "I probably would not even need a crystal this time."

Sarah knew what he said was true and deep within her, she wanted it. She leaned further into him and she felt his arm slide around her waist, giving her support she didn't really need.

His voice came back, this time abrupt and heavy, "But then you would be no more than a puppet. And that is _not_ what I want…I have seen too many of _that_ kind."

The world jarred back into place and Sarah staggered from the weight of it and the knowledge that he had just imparted to her. His arm saved her from falling on top of him. She looked tiredly up into his masked face and it took an alarming amount of willpower to force out the words, "What _do_ you want, Jareth?"

He seemed to suddenly become conscious of what had just happened between them and looked at her wide-eyed, not answering. Sarah realized this was the perfect time to ask. Here in his arms, clutching at him for support. If he did not answer her in the next moment, she would do it. There was nothing left to loose.

* * *

A/N: here we are again, kiddies...I LOVED writing this chapter and have had extra special help in the form of Vara, who gave me the best reviews... ever! So thank you very much to her, and to my beta, kizzy, for being wonderful...can you tell im in a good mood? Anyway, if anybody out there speaks welsh forgive me for not knowing your language and getting what I put in this chapter from a crappy online traslating site, I can tell it probably makes no sense in syntax or grammar, but hey...its not REALLY supposed to be welsh anyway :) sooo...reviews, 

Lady of the Labyrinth: it was only one tear...give him a break ;)

SnapeMomentcom: As quickly as I can...I'm actually posting this at 5 in the morning, before I go to my sucky job :

SmeagultheWeasul: thanks a lot, I really put out the effort to try and make this one different, I'm glad you like it

rachel115: i think he needs a hug too, don't worry tho, he'll get one eventually

DemonicSymphony: thank you...that's it XD

Vara: best reviews...ever! if anyone else is reading this little message, write more reviews like Vara's. Muah muah muah, thank you!

I got so many reviews this time, compared to others...so keep up the good work everybody, and so will I. And if you haven't reviews yet...PLEASE DO IT!

-atsuibelulah

ps..disclaimer, really quick... don't own much, def don't own Labby...;)


	11. Seizing the Chance

Chapter 10

Seizing the Chance

"What _do_ you want, Jareth?"

When he didn't answer her immediately, Jareth knew what Sarah would ask him next. He could see it in her face, forming on her lips. It was what she had come back for. She would ask and he would not be able to lie to her. He would tell her he had not meant it, that it was only the game and she would grow cold on him and turn herself away. He knew her, knew she would not listen. She would not give him the chance to tell her the truth. As she opened her mouth hesitatingly, ready to take the plunge, Jareth realized he would have to seize the chance from her.

"You may ask your next question, Sarah," her brows flew upwards and her jaw snapped shut in surprise. She did not realize how well he knew her, even after such a relatively short time; he suppressed an ironic smirk, _relatively_. "But you must promise to listen to my entire answer. It will be a long one and much of it you will think you do not want to hear."

"Are you sure you don't just want to answer the question I've already asked?"

What did he want? He wanted so many things, but the only way to achieve any of his dreams, vague or specific, was to explain things to Sarah. He would explain as much as he could, regardless of whether or not she wanted to hear him. "Do you promise to hear all I have to say?"

She nodded solemnly and he gently led her across the room and sat them both on the newly made bed. She was still quite weak from the strength of his ill-advised outburst. He had only wanted her to understand the double edge of his power and it had somehow gotten away from him. Jareth felt his usually tight control slipping more and more often in the past few days and he was beginning to feel frightened of where it would lead him. Sarah had displayed understandable shock at his display but, for some reason, still seemed inclined to trust him.

Jareth wondered despondently what he had ever done to encourage such trust in Sarah and, coming up with nothing, realized that he was probably preparing himself to shatter it in one fell swoop.

Sarah positioned herself so that she was sitting against the headboard, cushioned by the dozen or so pillows of varying sizes that he had conjured there. She looked at him for a long moment and he waited for her to gather her courage. "Did you…" she began but stopped and took a different approach. "After I returned home, I couldn't stop wondering about…the last time we met. I…I had to know," here she ducked her head slightly, but lifted her eyes to his own, hovering between uncertainty and hope, "whether you meant any of what you said to me…what you offered me."

And there it was, the question he had been waiting for, anticipating and dreading.

* * *

Sarah saw the way Jareth closed his eyes, he did not want to answer. Maybe he wouldn't, maybe the answer was no and he just didn't want to hurt her…but if he didn't want to hurt her, then wouldn't the answer be yes? Sarah felt her emotions spiraling out of control. 

Jareth's low and calm voice brought her back to reality, "There are some things that you need to understand about the Underground, and about my particularly unusual place in it, in order for me to answer your questions honestly, Sarah. And believe me, that is one of the things that I want very badly."

He paused, as if collecting his thoughts, "I think that I should first explain to you what the Labyrinth is used for. It is a tool for channeling power, specifically the power of dreams. Not the dreams of slumber, but the dreams of the heart, deep wishes and hidden desires. The dreams of mortals are the easiest to acquire, they have no defense."

He stopped to take a slow breath and she could not stop herself from interrupting, "How does it acquire them?" She had a sinking feeling that she already knew the answer.

Jareth spoke carefully, but the feeling in Sarah's gut only turned to stone, "It searches out a specific kind of mortal dreamer. Through various means, they are encouraged to speak certain words. When the words are spoken, the Dreamer enters into a game. It is a very real and dangerous game…"

"A game…" she cut him off, her voice hollow and defeated. She tried to move from the bed but his arm caught her shoulder in an alarmingly vice-like grip.

He leaned forward and spoke low, "You promised to hear all of it, Sarah. I am not finished. You may interrupt me whenever you please, but you _will not_ leave."

The tone of his voice offered no other alternative and Sarah sat back woodenly, waiting for him to continue while studying the bedspread. It was an intricately patterned quilt, made of a soft cottony fabric in varying shades of grey, green, and lilac. Sarah tried not to like it too much.

Jareth's narrative took on a bitter tone as he resumed his explanation, "It is a game that the Labyrinth and its Mistress nearly always win."

"_Mistress_?" Her voice fell to a whisper as she looked up quickly, straight into his eyes.

It was Jareth's turn to look away, fixing his gaze out the still open French doors, he continued, "Yes. Nearly 500 years ago the Shadow Queen came into possession of the lands and the entity known as the Labyrinth, enlisting an exiled Fae prince as her new territory's Steward." His eyes came back to Sarah's though he did not turn his head. They reflected hidden sorrows and haunted dreams into her own as he spoke, "I am that exile."

Excruciating memories of the past year were seared into Sarah's mind when she heard him say that title, the _Shadow Queen_. She tried to process Jareth's words without labeling him as a new threat, "Y-you _work_ for _her_?"

He nodded curtly, "At the beginning of my service I had very little choice left," it was spoken as an unequivocal fact, not self justification. His expression darkened as he added, almost as an afterthought, "And I bear no special love for my duties as Goblin King."

Sarah felt her confusion spiral into panic. Jareth worked for _her_, he was no longer safe. She tried to curtail her rising fears, to think logically, "But how can you protect me if you are in her service?"

He had turned his full attention on her once again. Eyes penetrating, he spoke softly, "There is a way."

Sarah was floundering, she didn't understand his angle. He worked for her, what did he stand to gain by aiding the Queen's discarded _toy_? Bitter, hateful words fell, unbidden, from her mouth, "Going to turn me back over after I'm all fixed up, are you? Or are you going to have some _fun_ with me first?" Sarah unconsciously crossed her arms so that she was clutching her shoulders protectively, as he stared at her, shock and pain etched in the lines of his face. She paid his wounded reaction no attention as another thought occurred to her, savagely striking at the hope she had tried to keep for so long. Her words were infused with self-loathing and defeat, "I should have known…Why would you truly want to protect me if it was all just a _game_?" She spat the word, full of venom, flashing an icy glare at him.

Suddenly hands gripped both her shoulders roughly, pulling her closer to him. Their faces were inches apart and his voice rose, taking on a desperate edge, "Do you think _this_ is a game to me, Sarah? The runners of the Labyrinth play the game and I play it against them. It is my duty. I do not have to enjoy it. I played it against you ten years ago, but it ceased being a _game_ when you won your brother and your dreams back. Such a thing had never happened before. But who do you think kept your victory a secret? Who kept the Queen from taking the power that was lost, from raping you of it? I never thought…" he broke off, letting go of her and leaning tiredly back against the bedpost and dragging a hand over his face. His eyes were left closed and he smirked ironically, "It never occurred to me that you would _want_ to return, that you would think this place worth returning to."

Sarah had fallen hard against the bed frame when Jareth released her. The base of her skull was throbbing mildly, she thought maybe she had hit it on the high headboard but paid the pain little attention. Sarah felt numb as she traced the spiraling floral pattern on her quilt, the quilt _Jareth_ had conjured for her. She spoke quietly when he did not continue, her voice coming slightly raspy, similar to when she had spoken to him in the ballroom, "It was the people, not the place. The Labyrinth itself is the most annoyingly confusing and detestable place I have ever been."

He gave a short, barking laugh, "Well, the Labyrinth certainly doesn't detest _you_."

She let the cryptic remark slide for the moment, in favor of questioning him on things he had only glossed over, "How did you stop her from finding out?"

"A portion of my power was channeled as your dreams. It was not difficult to fake. I already knew much about them and she hardly ever looks closely." He looked away again, and she began taking the action as a cue that he was about to say something he didn't like or thought she would not like. Sarah braced herself.

"I was forced to bar your friends from contacting you. Communication between the worlds often draws her attention." He looked back at her guiltily, but with a silent plea in his eyes that maybe even he did not realize was there, "I would never have done it, had it not been so important to your safety."

Sarah started at this. It was the closest he had ever come to an apology to her. She realized this was the _only_ thing he had done that _might_ deserve an apology. The game was his duty. He had entered into it long before she ever came into the picture, she would not fault him for a choice made centuries ago. Afterwards, he had done nothing but protect her. How could she blame _him_ for any of it? Everything that had happened to her had been her own fault. She was the selfish brat who would not be deterred, she had refused to forget him after her victory, and she had pushed herself back into his life. Why should he need to apologize?

Sarah felt the familiar tears, burning her eyes again, demanding to be let out. She looked up into his face and he was looking at her with such sorrow and regret. She remembered his kindness over the past days and the tears broke free. She had searched for him for ten years and all she had gained was his pity. It was her own fault; she had made herself so pathetic he would never truly love her.

Sarah tried to wipe the wet streaks from her face as discreetly as possible, but with a twist of his wrist, Jareth had dropped a crystal and pulled a handkerchief. He silently held the pristine white square of cloth out to her and she took it as the words tumbled, breaking over her tears, "I'm so sorry, Jareth."

Amazingly he looked at her with surprise and confusion on his face, as though he could not fathom why she would say such a thing, "Sarah," he began earnestly, "none of this is, in any way, your fault."

"But it isn't yours, either!" Immediately after Sarah said this, he caught her completely off guard by capturing her securely in his arms and drawing her close to him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, his hands gently weaving themselves into her hair. It was a sensation Sarah thought she could get used to, remembering he had done the same the previous night. His breath flowed over her face steadily and Sarah relaxed, resting her hands on his shoulders.

After a moment, he spoke as if there was a weight on him that could never be lifted, "Ultimately, Sarah, it is."

She did not know how to respond to this, but Jareth's voice was so full of regret and anguish, that she thought she might begin to cry again as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He rested his head on her shoulder and neither of them moved for what seemed a very long time.

* * *

A/N: Oh man, this chapter was so _tough_! I had such writer's block and I was putting it off more and more. Luckily I pulled it together, mostly, and w/ the help of my new official beta, the lovely Vara (so sorry to kizzy for not waiting for her response...i got excited for posting :\), made it (I believe) passable. It's not some of my best work, but I truly enjoy some of the dialogue and a few little descriptions here and there. I have no confidence in myself as a romantic writer, b/c sadly i have very little experience in the matter, so please bear w/ me as I muddle through it. Not much was really revealed in this chappie. One reason for this is that I am having trouble getting all my thoughts on what needs to be explained together...so some help on that would be greatly appreciated...I would love to know what people want to know. Are you confused about anything? TELL ME! What do you think sarah needs to know next? I LOVE suggestions. And you thought I had this thing all planned out...well I did goddamn it, it just got away from me and became way bigger than I thought it would...Did you know I had originally planned for only like 9 chapters? Does it seem anywhere near the end? Good lord. Ok...reviews... (by the by a very nice number last time, but lets try to raise it some more XD) 

**DemonicSymphony**: why thank you darlin'. I'm glad you enjoy it so much...hopefully I will get back into the joy...I just have to get over this hump :

**Vara**: You can write a dissertaion on my story any time you wanna, babe. muah muah mauh all of your suggestions were wonderfully incisive and I took as many as I could XD thankyouthankyouthankyou. Oh, and you can review anyway you wanna, email or regular, just as long as you do ;)

**SnapeMomentcom**: Yeah, I was almost late for work cuz of that post...but it's alright now, I have a few days off XD. Thanks, perfect is quite a compliment...although i'm not too sure this one is perfect :

**BeautifulDecay**: Sorry about the wait, I've already explained myself but i always feel bad for delaying the chappie...cuz I get P.O.ed at authors who take forever then don't mention why. muah, thanks

SmeagulTheWeasul: Thanks, btw...I love ur pen name, it's adorable :)

**rachel115**: Ok, thank you for pointing that stuff out...I do realize about the sexual abuse, but I thought it would be way too complicated to get into initially (as I said up there, I didn't think the story would get this long and involved) so my explanation (let's presume that I had planned it all this way) is that not everything that happened to Sarah has come back to her yet, she doesn't remember it all. She will eventually and then we'll all have to deal w/ it. Another thing is, that Sarah's willingness to let Jareth touch her is a profound statement about how much she trusts him deep down, even though her mind tells her occaisonally that maybe she shouldn't. Now, about the "love" thing...here we may have a misunderstanding. Jareth has just realized that he may be in love w/ Sarah...but he calls her "love" as in the very british endearment (in the same family as the southern "darlin'" or "sugar" but much more polite). If he was using it as a love pronouncement, I would probably go for the more formal "my love". It's mostly a colloquialism that I adopted for him because it makes me swoon ;). I don't think he ever uses it in the movie, but can't you just hear him call her that? And thanks for your additional comments...I dunno if I would call it "narrative mastery" or "outstanding" but I luv ya for it anyway and keep up the substance reviews, they are great. PS...don't take my legnth of explanation as a sign that I was offended or anything...I just wanna make sure that I get my point across and we both understand my complicated story to its fullest extent XD...muah!

**Lady of the Labyrinth**: WELL, I HATE YOU TOO! HERE'S ANOTHER ONE FOR YA! ENJOY IT AND KEEP REVIEWING!...jk..kiss kiss

_**disclaimer**:_ Does anyone know where the Henson's reside these days? And if there is a male heir of marriageable age? ...who else is ready for the pride and predjudice movie and doesn't own Labyrinth?


	12. Queen of Shadowland

Chapter 11

Queen of Shadowland

"Accolon," the Queen of Shadows called for her chamberlain.

The wizened old man spoke with the reverence of a lifelong worshipper, "Yes, my Queen." Accolon stood at the entrance of her private sanctuary. He, and no other being, had ever been admitted further than the threshold.

The Queen stood before a raised pool, resting her right hand on the dark marble, waist-high rim. Her left hand hung at her side, dripping a red liquid onto her dark gown. _Blood and water_, he thought, _she has been scrying_. She turned her icy glare towards him, and spread her blood tinted lips in a satisfied grin, revealing teeth that glowed white in the dim light of the chamber. It was a smile that never reached her eyes, slow and sinister, it looked as though an outside force were pulling her perfect face into the semblance of emotion. Accolon thought it was beautiful, had thought so the first time he had laid his young eyes upon her, in the court of the High King.

"Do you know what I have discovered, dearest Accolon?" Her voice was honey sweet, drawing a physical response from him that should have long ago been impossible.

"No, my Queen."

She chuckled low and mirthlessly, "I have discovered that my poor, pathetic Steward, even after all these years of solitude and exile, has _not_ abandoned his juvenile dreams." She turned from the pool to face him and animatedly laughed, as he had not seen her do in at least a century. The Queen continued, as if she were telling a grand joke, "Still, our dear Jareth clings to the fading memory of his youthful dreams. Never guessing that I am the reason they are now beyond his reach."

"I do not understand, my Queen." Accolon knew he was too bold and shrank back from her. The Queen did not take to uninvited questions. But she did not strike, lifting a slender white hand, still tinted red, to brush a stray auburn curl back into her perfectly coifed hair and looked at him. It was a long stare and Accolon grew increasingly uncomfortable under it, becoming more and more aware of his gnarled bones and twisted features, before she spoke again.

"Ah, Accolon, my mortal paramour, the years have not been kind to you and neither have I." It was a penitent statement, but the regret was not to be found in her voice.

The chamberlain was always quick to defend his Queen, his love, "My Queen, you have been the soul of kind--"

She raised a hand and his mouth snapped shut, "I am only kind when it pleases me to be so, and that is rarely." She looked him up and down once more, "The years are _never_ kind. But come." She beckoned to him coolly, and he was pulled unceremoniously into the chamber with the force of her mighty will. Accolon was gasping for breath as she guided him physically into a decadently cushioned chair. _Her chamber_, he thought with fear born of awe and reverence, _her private chamber, no other has ever entered_.

Accolon looked up at her nervously, his breathing still not under control and she grinned at him and tilted her head as she spoke, "Calm yourself, old man. I fancy myself in a kind disposition this eve. You shall have your brash question answered. But I wish to prepare for sleep. I am taxed from my activities today and prefer both of us to be comfortable, for I think you could not stand long enough to hear it." Seeing his nerves had not quieted, she added with an uncharacteristic touch of exasperation, "Accolon, you will leave the room alive! I brought you from the brink of death. You've lived this long in my service, I see no reason to kill you now, when nature will take its course soon enough."

Accolon bowed his head and tittered nervously, "O-of course, My Queen."

She turned from him and glided to her massive, blackwood vanity, perching elegantly before the mirror. From his viewpoint, the old chamberlain could see himself and the Queen's perfect face in the glass. She seemed to be looking far away, perhaps into the veils as she was wont to do on occasion. Her gaze rested on neither herself, nor anything else in the chamber as she spoke again, softly, "Ours was not a pure love, Accolon. Fae love passionately, they love hungrily and greedily. There is lust and vanity. There is domination and subservience, even between our own. I took what I wanted and you considered yourself fortunate to have gained my attention. That is the way of things. That is how the Noble and Ancient Race live and love. The Mother bestowed her highest gifts upon us and all bow to our grace and beauty."

Accolon had heard such speeches many times before and agreed with every part of him. Each day he thanked the gods that he had ever known such a creature as the Queen. He would serve her until his death, and if she would allow it, forever after.

The Queen's gaze returned to the room and met his own through their reflections, "Jareth, formerly First Prince of the Court of the Light, dreamed in slumber and dreamed in his heart of a _pure_ love ever since he was able to dream at all. It was the promise of these dreams that caused him to refuse the Teind and resulted in his exile from the Court of Light," she stopped and smiled, lost in memory of her acquisition of him. Accolon remembered it was a great time for the Court of Shadows. He also remembered that no one save the Queen and the outcast Prince knew what she had done to gain his fealty and bind him to her. She had simply returned with him and proclaimed him First Lord of the Court and Steward to the Labyrinth.

"What a poor boy he was," she continued, not a trace of pity in her tone. "When I received word that _He_ had cast out his heir, I made arrangements to meet the _boy _on his flight." The Queen smiled at her old victory as she began to take down her elaborately styled locks, continuing with triumph and malice in her words, "Oh, but he was skin and bones from the failed ritual and they had beaten him for his cowardice as he departed. He was ill prepared to battle wills with me, and it was not difficult to convince him he could go no where else but to the Shadows."

Accolon's eyes had shifted from her beautiful mask-like visage to her glorious hair. When she removed the long pins from the coif it had tumbled gracefully to fall inches beyond the floor. The Queen brushed it as she spoke and the ancient chamberlain felt a muscle that should have long been dead straining against its cloth encasement.

"I also convinced the dear, exhausted youth to surrender one of his dreams to me as proof of his fealty and his service to the maze. His was the first dream I took with the Labyrinth, for I transported us both there to perform the rite. By this time, young Jareth was completely in my power." She smiled viciously at her next words, "The only son of my old enemy thought that his dream of that _pure_ love was only a dream of his sleeping mind, but in reality it was both. He was always one to confuse the two. He must have inherited it," she paused for a moment, the fine ivory brush slowed in her hand as her gaze grew distant. Accolon waited patiently, the inner workings of his Queen's mind were not for him to ponder or judge.

A moment later her hand took up again its rhythmic movement through her silken locks, and she resumed as if no time had passed, "The outcast prince unknowingly granted me leave to take a dream of his heart, a dream of my choosing." Her smile grew wider, almost maniacal and Accolon wondered why she did not divulge more of her affairs to others, she seemed to be enjoying it so. But he felt a surge of pride that _his_ Queen would speak of such matters only to him, intensifying the rising tension within. "I took the dream of his love and I took his blood to bind it and I took his memory of that night in the Labyrinth."

Her voice was thick with sadistic mirth and Accolon shuddered fearfully as his muscle strained harder. He tightened his gnarled grip on the plush chair.

"And for all these years," she continued, now beginning to remove the ornately beautiful jewelry from her slender neck and graceful red-stained hands, "Poor Jareth believes his dream has abandoned him and thinks it a punishment for his cowardice. He can no longer remember the contents of his dream and so does not know that it stands before him."

The Queen turned in her chair and removed her richly woven dressing gown, revealing a thin and spidery-black floor-length night shift. The neckline was dangerously low and Accolon thought either the wood of the chair arm or his brittle knuckles would shatter under the pressure of his mounting desire.

Her long hair shimmered, a fiery red in the candlelight. It had wrapped itself about her form when she turned and she pulled it behind her as she continued, her gaze unwavering, "You recall the last of my mortal entertainment, Accolon? Of course you do, your mind is not _that_ far gone. Then you will also remember that I ordered the chit into the Labyrinth after she screeched his name as I broke through her final barrier. I knew at that moment what she was, you see," she began walking towards him and her voice rang with triumph, "_she_ is the love of Jareth's dream. I have delivered her to him, but the dream itself can never be truly realized. Jareth will have her, but how long can he keep her, with his conscience and his guilt, with her pain and her scars._ Without_ his dream, he will never believe that such a lofty ambition as _pure and true love_ can be attained. In his mind, though he may not realize it now, their love is already doomed."

She stood before him now and, with a final satisfied smile, reached up to unclasp her garment. It slithered to the floor, revealing the succulent white flesh underneath. Her body had not aged a day from when he had first seen it in its full glory that day by the well, "I am quite spent, Chamberlain. I believe I will retire." It was a flat dismissal, but Accolon found he could not move from his taut position. He looked at her fearfully, mouth hanging open, not even able to speak.

She slid her gaze down him and back up, her eyes boring into his own and her voice soft, yielding no emotion, "Consider this my final act of kindness to you, Accolon of Gaul." With a swift gesture of her hand his robes tore open down his middle, exposing a withered warrior's body at the ready. She bent forward and brushed a single finger down his extended shaft, catching her nail at the end, grazing ever so lightly. Accolon cried out hoarsely as his withered and useless seed spilled upon his tattered robes and knew no more. He did not see her turn to a basin along the wall and wash her hands of their blood red stain, as he was lost in ancient memories of his love, Morgane of the Fae, Queen of Shadowland.

* * *

A/N: Alright, now I know and understand why many of you might want to murder me for not getting back to Jareth and Sarah. But…let me say in my defense that I feel this is a DAMN good chapter, and that I like it very much :). I will be doing those two next chappie, I believe, and maybe something from Aidan and Nadia also…I'm not quite sure yet. But what I know is, I can't just have straight Jareth explanation for like four chapters, we have to mix it up a little here people, or it will get boring. Also, I have no idea what they're going to say to one another (don't worry I'll def figure it out eventually ;) ) So yeah, not as many reviews as chapter 10…but what are ya gonna do? Well, YOU'RE gonna review, but I can't make you…just be nice and do it, please? XD 

Sooo… thanks to the new polices of fanfiction,com I can't reply to you guys anymore in the chappie. What I've decided to do is create a livejournal to reply to your reviews. I think this will be the easiest way and fun for me too :) I will put a link for it in my user profile (the username is **norgbelulah** btw)…PLEASE CHECK IT OUT, there may also be more on the chappie there too, fell free to also send me comments XD

Thank you again to all my reviewers…if you want to become one, you already know how…just press the button and write me a fun message. Couldn't be easier ;)

* * *

**Disclaimer**: If I married into the Henson family, do you think my children would be creative puppet geniuses as well? That might be cool. Now, to set about finding me a Henson…then maybe I will own Labyrinth. 


	13. Enough

Chapter 12

Enough

He hadn't answered her question. Sarah's mind buzzed impatiently with that thought, while still in the circle of Jareth's arms. She mentally berated herself for being so petty. Obviously, Jareth had some deep-seated issues here and she couldn't get past the fact that he hadn't reassured her fanciful childish imaginings of romance.

Sarah opened her eyes and looked over Jareth's shoulder, stifling a gasp. The sun was along the horizon once again, painting the sky and clouds in pale orange and pink. How long had they been there? It seemed to Sarah that she had only shut her eyes a moment ago.

Jareth stirred in her arms, lifting his head from her shoulder, but still looking downwards. She gripped his arms and tried to duck her head to see his face. He must have been thinking along the same lines as she, for his next words were far from where they had ended the conversation, apparently such a long time before.

"I realize now what I did wrong at the end of our Game, why you refused your dreams." Sarah's hands tightened involuntarily. It was now; he was going to tell her.

He paused again, searching for words, and she wished he would get on with it, the suspense was twisting her nerves into knots, soon they would snap from the strain. Sarah tried to reign in her impatience, what he was telling her would be important. This was the foundation of _any_ relationship between them. His voice was quiet and Sarah couldn't tell in which direction he was going.

"I read them too closely. You did not fully understand your desires. I did not anticipate that."

Sarah knew he was right. Had it all been real, had he meant what he said, had she accepted his offer…the words ran through her mind, echoing a child's dreams,

_Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave_

…they were all things she would have done, even without realizing it. At fifteen, she hadn't understood that love was as painful and terrifying as it was wonderful. He had frightened her with the rawness of her own emotions.

He began again, his voice wavering every so often, and Sarah had to strain to hear him properly, "For years, I worried about you; what you were doing, how you were living, who you were loving. But I could not search you out, for fear of her wrath. I worried in silence, trying to rid you from my mind. I told myself you should no longer be my concern. If I allowed no one from the Underground near you, you would never be in danger from her. Then I saw you in the hedge, what she had done to you, and my thoughts were filled with you once again. Now, when I think about what happened, when I think about you," he lifted his head and she had to lean back quickly to prevent him from smacking her face with his skull.

Sarah clung to his arms, trying to regain her balance, but his next words set her reeling again, "I wished that, when I said those words, that I had meant them. And that I had said them properly."

Her eyes widened until they actually hurt and his bore into them, with all the intensity of a Fae's passion. Sarah had seen such passion before, it had terrified her then, but now she felt her own dormant passion awakening.

He placed a hand against her cheek, and as she leaned into it Jareth spoke again, low and more intense, a fierce whisper, "Oh, how you've turned my world, Sarah."

She felt a tear roll down her face and he brushed it tenderly away with his thumb. Countless emotions rose within her, so quickly she could not sort them out. Sarah raised her hand to his and clutched it tightly, letting out a quiet whimper.

"Shhh, love," he crooned, "the quest is over. You have your answer now."

Sarah sighed heavily, moving forward to lean her forehead against his chest, "But now that I have it, what do I do?"

She felt his soft laugh, "Well, let's not worry about that just now. How about we get some supper?" He must have only just noticed the time.

Sarah, still leaning into the Goblin King, closed her eyes in resignation. She knew Jareth was right. They had dealt with too much that day, and she didn't think she could take much more. She had her answer, and that was enough, for now.

* * *

Jareth led Sarah through the still corridors of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. She was as silent as the halls, following the steady pull of his arm, looking at and seeing nothing. Jareth had not really expected much else from her. He knew Sarah was at her emotional limit, she had been through far too much in only a few days. He would take her to the library, and try to get her mind off things, if only for a little while.

Jareth looked back at the exhausted young woman and replayed the day's conversation. He had told her so much and now barely believed that she still wanted to associate with him. But there was a great deal more that he needed her to know. But how much could she take? What would be the final straw, the one thing about him that would drive her away? How long before he broke her, by accident or deliberately?

He must have made some sort of noise in his musings for Sarah's right hand moved to cover his own resting on her opposite arm. He turned to see her looking at him thoughtfully. She gave Jareth a melancholy smile and shook her head slightly, almost as if she knew the turmoil of his thoughts. Jareth looked away, slightly sheepish, knowing she was right. How could he distract Sarah from the overwhelming complexity of their situation if he could not keep his own thoughts from it?

Jareth searched his mind for something else to ponder as he again turned his eye to Sarah. He thought she was once again looking at nothing, but he noticed her eyes were cast downward, at her horribly scarred wrists. She moved to finger her mutilated flesh but Jareth was faster, gently knocking her hand aside and shaking his head when she looked up at him.

Sarah rolled her lovely eyes upward and let out an unladylike snort of derision, "What a fine pair we make, Goblin King."

Jareth started slightly at her use of his title but flashed an answering smirk. Sarah let loose another of her silvery laughs in response, although it was not as blithe as earlier, and clasped both hands in the crook of his arm.

She leaned towards him and rested her head against his shoulder, "Where are you taking me now?"

Promptly, they arrived at the library door and Jareth stepped in front of it, putting his hands behind his back, grasping the bronze door handle. "Nadia told me you wanted to see the library, before your little side trip last night."

She lifted her head and gave him a huge smile, revealing her anticipation "Yeah, I did."

Jareth's spirit soared that he could incite such a response from the so recently abused woman but he sobered slightly as he spoke again, "I am warning you, it's probably not what you are expecting."

She gave him an appraising look, but pitched her voice low, a note away from bitterness, "I have learned that nothing in the Underground is what I was expecting."

Jareth let her statement drop, like a heavy stone in water, not knowing how to respond. He would not snap back at her with a snide apology for not meeting her high standards. The Underground _should_ have been as she wanted, would have been far better for it. _He_ should have been as she thought him to be, it would have been easier on them both.

She seemed to realize what it was she had just said and opened her mouth; he could see the apology ready on her tongue. Jareth turned the handle and pushed open the door before she could speak and with a twist of his wrist the curtains were drawn, flooding the dusk filtered light into the chamber.

It was not a large space, by castle standards anyway. Modest two storey walls and an arched ceiling confined the rectangular room, giving the space a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere that was often lacking in the other rooms of Jareth's domain. Books were shelved along every corner of the walls, even around the windows. There was also a fireplace with a chimney that ran up to the ceiling, encased in stones of earthy grey-brown granite. The carpeting and furniture were inspired by a nineteenth century smoking room into which Jareth had once been summoned. There were large leather upholstered chairs and sofa clustered around the fireplace and inserted in a few corners of the room as well as lavishly cushioned seats under each of the tall and narrow windows. The entire effect was a comfortable, if slightly dusty, well lived in and well loved chamber.

Jareth took this all in inside of a moment and he smiled when he heard Sarah's small intake of breath, he could tell she liked it. He pulled a crystal and summoned a small dining table, complete with plates of steaming food, to the center of the room, and Sarah gasped again. Jareth thought if he could just keep her safe and happy, it would be enough.

* * *

A/N: Ummmm...I have reservations about this chapter. I'm not at all confident in my fluff writing abilities, I'm not even sure that this constitutes as fluff, but it has the makings. So, some pointers or some encouragement on the romantic revelations in this chappie would be most welcome :) It took a long time, b/c I've been really busy getting ready to and actually moving back to school. I was also waiting for an email from one of my betas but I felt I could wait no longer. I hope vara is not too mad at me:\. But thatnks to kizzy for writing back this time, muah and thanks for the suggestions (that sentence was awkward). Next Chappie should be half twins and half JS...that's the plan anyway. I will be responding to the rest of my reviewers in my LJ (link in my profile) so PLEASE check it out. I don't really feel like keeping it up unless I know people are looking at it. It seems kind of sad if i keep it up otherwise :\

So PLEASE REVIEW FOR ME LOVELIES! It's always so much more nice that way XD

-atsuibelulah

disclaimer: Wow, can't come up w/ something funny...don't own labby...yeah.


	14. What Else?

Chapter 13

What Else?

After dinner, Sarah sat with Jareth in a companionable silence on one of the comfy leather sofas before the fire. He had his arm wrapped around her, almost protectively, and Sarah felt wonderfully safe and comfortable. She felt her eyelids begin to droop and looked for something to focus on, not wanting to fall asleep so early in the evening. Sarah's eyes wandered over the room and came to rest on the thick wooden mantelpiece.

It was a dark wood that she could not identify, illuminated a burnt orange color from the light of the rapidly flickering fire. There were small carvings protruding from either end, animal-like visages facing out into the room. At first, Sarah thought the two creatures were goblins, but on closer inspection they possessed the drooping ears and lips and the pointed horns of Ludo. Sarah wondered what role such creatures really played in the Labyrinth, now that she understood that most of what she thought she knew was wrong.

She snuggled in closer to Jareth to contemplate the things she did not understand about the Labyrinth and her eyes rose above the curious piece of sculpture to a painting. It was a map, of sorts, depicting the different areas of the Labyrinth. One could hardly call it detailed but the artist had incorporated flourishes and small likenesses of the various creatures found in each area.

Sarah took the painting in, noting the layout of the gigantic maze, mentally mapping her own journey through Jareth's domain. When she was finished she turned her attention to the outside borders of the Labyrinth, noting the names of the surrounding lands. The lands to the east were titled the Kingdom of Light and the lands to the north were called the Kingdom of Dark. A chord was struck in Sarah's mind, reverberating through all of the legends she had studied, the underground kingdoms of faerie; _The Underground_.

Sarah's mind was racing now with random memories and facts and she was left struggling to hide her dawning realization from Jareth. She thought of the bronze doors outside of the ballroom. She thought of him, his light hair and complexion, his innate elegance and grace. She thought of the dark places in the Queen's dungeons. He said he was an _exile_, he said he worked for _her_.

She looked back up at the map and saw something else. There were also lands to the southwest, called Independent and Mortal Territories. But he said there was no other choice, Sarah's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Jareth?"

His eyes had been closed and his voice was thick with fatigue, "Yes, love?"

She loosed her arm from where it was pinned between their bodies and pointed to the painting, "If there are independent territories in the Underground, why didn't you flee to one of them instead of the Shadow Court?"

He sat up swiftly, surprising her to the opposite side of the couch. Jareth raked his eyes over the map and turned to her, wide-eyed. His movements reminded her somewhat of a spooked horse, all power and fear bottled up, ready to lash out.

When she had asked the question, Sarah was expecting some sort of explanation. He was not an irrational or illogical person, but his answer was both and he continued to stare at her as if he had never seen her before. He spoke, slowly and deliberately, "There was no where else for me to go."

Sarah felt herself go cold with fear for him as his hands began to shake. "Yes, Jareth, you've already told me. But why? Why couldn't you go anywhere else?"

He practically scrambled off the sofa and began backing up, away from her, towards the windows. His expression was torn between knowledge that her question was valid and desperate belief in the truth of the words that were coming from his mouth, "There _was_ nowhere else to go. There was _nowhere_ else to go. There was nowhere else to _go_."

"Jareth… Jareth, please," she began to repeat his name, frantic to get his attention before something really frightening happened. Sarah wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around him, but she was frozen in place, stuck in the corner of the sofa. She wondered if it was his doing, if he wanted to keep her away, consciously or unconsciously.

Jareth finally backed all the way into the windows and almost fell on top of the cushioned seat built in underneath. He froze completely for a moment and Sarah hoped he had regained control. Jareth seemed to awaken to himself once more and really looked at her, his expression full of terror as he whispered, "What else has she taken from me?"

The world seemed to come crashing down around Sarah, but then she realized that Jareth had thrown a crystal, shattering the window, and flew into the night before she could speak or even think.

A gust of cold night air blew through the opened chamber as Sarah wept, this time for her love.

* * *

Nadia watched her brother attempting to wear a trench in the floor from his relentless steps at her small writing desk in the heart of the House of Those Wished. She was attempting to peruse the letters that some of the grown Wished had sent them. He had been pacing nonstop for most of the day and she had gotten nothing done. She knew what was on his mind but refused to broach the subject with him. It was something they did not talk about often. 

"What do you suppose they are doing?" Aidan's question had been building for a long time.

Nadia gave him a long look and spoke carefully, "It is not for you or I to say, Aidan."

He turned away and began pacing again, his agitation rising. Nadia was beginning to become worried, she usually knew how to calm her high strung brother when he was in this state. She would remind him of his place and he would leave it, but now things were different. She had never expected Sarah to return, never expected matters to change so drastically.

Aidan continued speaking as he began pacing again, "But do you suppose he will tell her what he has learned? Do you think she will trust him? Will he tell her—" She crumpled up an envelope and chucked it at him. He turned sharply and glared at her. She wanted to rush over and shake him, but she saw the desperation behind his flash of anger.

She sighed heavily, "Oh, Aidan, you only make it harder on yourself." She stood and walked over to him, clutching his shoulders, willing her words to reach him, "You know…you _know_, Aidan, that even if he knew, even if Sarah had not returned, nothing would have come of it."

Pain twisted his features, she hated to hurt him but he needed to know. He had lived too long like this. Aidan's voice sounded as if it was wrenched from his throat, "How do you know that?"

"Oh, my dear, he had centuries to act and yet he did not. You and I both know that Jareth is blind to what he does not wish to see, and he never wished to see you in that way."

Suddenly a screech tore through the darkness. They both instinctively knew what it was. Aidan rushed to the small window, pushing it swiftly open without a thought and sticking his head far into the night.

Nadia's voice trembled behind him, "Is it Jareth?"

"Yes, I see him."

The owl cried again, tormented and anguished as they had never heard before. He circled once around the whole of the Labyrinth before the sound and the owl faded into the night.

Nadia's confusion almost outweighed her concern for Jareth, "Where could he be going?"

Aidan was still staring out the window. His voice was soft, but filled with distrust that his sister knew was unwarranted, "What has happened?" He turned towards the door.

"Aidan, where are you going?"

He did not stop, crossing the room with heavy, resolute steps, "To speak with Sarah."

Nadia knew she had to follow him.

* * *

Sarah didn't know what to do. She wasn't even sure what exactly had just happened. Jareth's horror-filled words seemed to echo around her, saturated into the very walls. 

_What else has she taken from me?_

The room was inexplicably darker and more forbidding and Sarah felt her panic rising once again. The tears had not yet dried on her cheeks as she fought to keep herself calm. Where had the determined girl who won back her brother gone?

_Buried in the dungeons and shadows of the Queen's dark court_, Sarah thought bitterly. But when had she become one who just rolled over in the face of defeat? All those years ago, she hadn't allowed Jareth to exert power over her, why should the Queen be any different?

_Because she tortured and broke you_, her mind answered. But she was no longer in the presence of the Queen, why should _she_ still have any power over her?

"She shouldn't," Sarah spoke aloud to emphasize her resolution, "She _doesn't_."

Sarah looked up from where she had laid her head to loose her tears and bit back a scream of alarm. A goblin sat on the cushion directly underneath the shattered window, among the splintered wood and broken glass. The creature was on the small side with the large bug-eyes that Sarah found to be characteristic of the goblins she had seen. Actually, the goblin looked more like a human child than any Sarah had seen before. It was only the green swarthy complexion and minute animal attributes that marked the creature as such.

He, it looked to her to be a he, pulled nervously at the small fang protruding from his lower jaw, "Hello, Sawah." His voice was juvenile and high, reminding Sarah of her brother not too many years before.

She was surprised to hear the goblin speak her name, for some reason she hadn't thought they were very smart. Jareth seemed to hate them; she remembered the contempt in his voice when she had asked about the glass. Sarah couldn't bring herself to be rude to the little guy, even if Jareth probably would have. After all, he had already greeted her nicely.

"Hi," she returned warmly, "What's your name?"

He gave her a strange look, as if he had never thought about it, before mumbling, "Not 'mportant."

He didn't say anything after that and began looking idly around the library. Sarah was at a loss, "Can I help you with something?"

The goblin turned his attention back to her and his eyebrows rose and wrinkled like he was caught at something, "I's worried about Jareth. Jareth's scared, 'e ran away. _She_ hurt 'im."

Sarah's eyes widened. Who was this creature? How could he know about the Queen?

Before she could get her thoughts together, the goblin spoke again, "She's got us both, she does. I's not likin' it neither."

"Us both?" she had to interrupt him.

He looked confused for a moment, "No, no, she _had_ you. Jareth 'n me, that's who she's got."

Sarah's mind turned again, _all those years of critical analysis_, she thought. If the creature knew so much about the Queen, what else would it know? She asked her question slowly, the goblin had become distracted by the room again, "What else has she taken from him?"

His eyes looked straight into hers, and she felt almost as if something else, something ancient looked into her soul, his expression mingled sorrow and guilt, "The dream. She made him forget the dream. She made him forget you."

"_What?_" Sarah was baffled, "But…I don't understand…I was the one who forgot him!"

The little goblin looked uncertain again, but a sound erupted from the hallway outside and someone muttered, "Where is she?"

Sarah turned towards the door as the creature spoke again, "You's have to help 'im, Sarah."

She spun her vision back towards the creature and nearly fell from the sofa. He was gone. She really did fall when an irate golden-haired man burst through the door.

* * *

A/N: Hey, hey, everybody! I feel like its been a while, maybe a week? But I had this chappie almost done like last Wed so its seems kinda weird. Anywho, the dalay was b/c I was waiting for my beta Vara to get back to me on this chappie. She did, and her suggestions were magnificant...thanks also to kizzy for betaing. I wuv my betas! Yes...cough cough... anywho I throughly enjoy this chapter also. The enxt one was just started today, but some more thought needs to be put into it before I can really get going. I also have lots of reading to do for my classes and the usual japanese workbook st. Yeah, don'tcha hate it when school gets in the may of good literature...HA!...Alright, yell at me, "enough with the self-depricating humor, please, atsui'!" Yep, review replies in the LJ...link in the profile. Thanks much everybody! XD 

Atsuibelulah...the insane.

disclaimer: I don't think the Hensons will let me marry one of them, I'm far too crazy and annoying. So I will have to settle for just owning Aidan and Nadia...I feel they are sufficiently mine now. ;)


	15. Step By Step

Chapter 14

Step By Step

Jareth stood atop the rise overlooking the Labyrinth where he had first come with Sarah and breathed deep. The moonlight flowed through wispy clouds to illuminate the land in a milky glow. The turns and passages of the Labyrinth were eerily quiet; he knew the spirit's concern. They were in this together, inextricably tied. The cool air of his realm filled and calmed him. He needed to think rationally about what had happened in the library.

When Sarah asked him that question a well-oiled gear in his mind had abruptly shattered. For all the years of his reluctant service there had never been any doubt in him that the Shadow Court had been his only option, that there had been_ no where else to go_.

No one had ever challenged that fact. Aidan and Nadia had never been in a position to do so. They barely knew more than Sarah about the whole matter and Jareth liked it that way. Now he wondered if his secretive tendencies had betrayed him. Or had the Queen fabricated his reserved nature along with that unquestioning belief that he had no choice? What else had she changed within him? Had she altered any other memories? Was he truly exiled?

_No_. As soon as Jareth thought of that possibility he knew the truth. Even the Queen could not have placed such detail in _those_ memories. But…his mind was grasping for something…something was wrong about his exile…something he had forgotten. It was such a long time ago…he could not remember.

Defeat sunk into his bones, how could he regain what he had lost? With the power of the Labyrinth at her disposal the Queen was virtually invincible. It was the Labyrinth that had tipped the balance between the Dark and Light and it was he who had enabled that disparity. She could never have done it without him. Bitterness and hatred for the Queen and for himself rose within him. "Oh, Mother of Light, help me," he entreated, knowing he did not deserve it.

Suddenly, Jareth felt the Labyrinth reach a fine tendril of power towards him and the tumultuous emotions rapidly mounting again in the library surrounded him. The spirit of the maze showed him Aidan's finely honed anger, Nadia's barely voiced concern, and Sarah's powerfully masked uncertainty. Jareth sighed and pulled himself together, not wanting to deal with any of it at that moment, yet knowing he had to return before things got out of hand.

* * *

Sarah tried to scramble backwards on the floor as the man advanced on her, but he was too fast and his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist painfully at the scars. She was pulled to her knees before him as she gasped, revealing her pain and mounting terror. Sarah forcibly pushed away thoughts of the Queen's dungeons and clamped her mouth shut; she would not cower before anyone again, _ever_. She raised her chin and leveled determined eyes at the golden man. 

She knew him at once as Nadia's brother and wondered at this sudden display of violence towards her. She had perceived no hints that the brother would not be as kind and obliging as Nadia had been.

"What have you done?" His voice was anger-laced and low. _Oh_, Sarah thought, _he thinks I've harmed Jareth_. An eerie calm had settled around her, a sense that she could deal with anything thrown at her. Sarah had no idea where this feeling had come from, but she would use it to her advantage as long as possible.

She stilled the quaver in her voice and spoke softly, never moving her eyes from his, "Kindly remove your hand, Lord Aidan." The title was a gamble, but she knew Jareth must call them something; lord and lady were what immediately came to her mind. At her calm demeanor, Aidan paused but, to Sarah's dismay, she began to involuntarily tremble and then shudder at his sudden and unwanted contact. His eyes widened, but he resolutely held onto his anger as he released her and she fell to the floor at his feet.

Sarah tried to recover herself as quickly as she could, backing up and using the sofa to push herself to her feet. She was still shaking, she wasn't able to control it but she kept her face a calm mask. Aidan kept his eyes on her and he spoke again, this time even lower, "What have you done, girl?"

The woman bristled at this insult and moved to stand on her own, facing his resentment coolly, "I asked him a question."

Nadia's worried voice came from the doorway, "Aidan, I don't think…"

He continued as if he had not heard her, "You are spying for _her_." The accusation cut deep into Sarah, her gut roiled at the thought. "You will damn us all."

She gave him a hard look and retorted, "The Shadow Queen needs no spies, my _Lord_." But her thoughts turned back to the terrible conversation of only minutes before, her gaze seeming distant, "It is Jareth who is under _her_ power," her voice became soft, Sarah didn't know if he would hear it, "She holds them both."

To Sarah's surprise his fury turned piercing cold and his voice grew intense and harsh. His stance became lower and more menacing as he snapped, "You speak of things you do not know, girl. You do not know what she has done."

She felt her own anger rising at his simultaneously threatening and dismissive attitude, and shot him another hard look, challenging his claim. _Don't I?_ She thought furiously, but regained her uncannily calm demeanor, "I don't think even Jareth knows all that she has done to him."

Immediately after she spoke an insistent wind blew through the demolished window as a majestic tawny owl alighted on the sill. Sarah caught her breath. She had never been this close to him in his other form, he was…breathtaking. The owl's dark piercing gaze was unwavering on Aidan and the golden man took a step away from her, a look of barely hidden fear and something else that Sarah could not identify settled on his face.

Jareth transformed in a swirl of ivory feathers and crystalline glitter and stood for a moment. No one spoke, and his face was a mask of indifference. The king idly tossed a crystal behind him and the window was repaired, reminding Sarah of the reverse photography often used for magic in old TV shows and movies. She felt a smile surface despite the silence of the room, who knew it would really look like that?

Her smile disappeared when Jareth stepped further into the room, not saying a word, passing by Aidan without even an acknowledgement. But as he passed her, Jareth gave Sarah's hand the slightest of brushes with his own and she saw the pain and the weariness behind his eyes. Her heart rose and fell at the same time and then she felt all the force of Aidan's resentment.

As Jareth stepped through the doorway, Sarah recognized the expression on Aidan's face as the pain of jealousy and long devotion. She felt her features soften as she stepped towards him, speaking quietly, "I'm sorry. And, for what it's worth, I understand…at least a little." Without waiting for any answer or even a reaction from him, Sarah turned away, touching Nadia softly on the shoulder in understanding, and following Jareth into the corridor.

She found him standing a short distance from the library, before the great bronze doors of the ballroom, much like she had on only the previous night. His eyes moved over every inch of the massive etching and as she approached, she wanted to ask him about the two sides of the aisle, about the light over them both, what did it mean, why it was in the Labyrinth. Instead, Sarah remained silent, waiting for him to speak.

She came up to him slowly and slipped her arm through his, looking up to his face with concern in her eyes. He transferred his distant gaze to her, grasping her hand with his own. He then did something totally unexpected. Sliding his other hand behind her neck and into her hair, he closed the distance between them, meeting her slightly open lips with his own. It was, by Sarah's limited experience, an expert kiss, lingering and sweet.

When they parted, Sarah found herself slightly dizzy, leaving her eyes closed, she murmured, not realizing the irony until after she had spoken, "Everything's dancing."

Sarah heard his soft chuckle, still weighed down by pain and worry, "Come on, love. It's time we were both asleep." She noted, with some hidden relief, that he had not said "in bed", and wondered how she would react when...she paused in her thoughts…if they got to that point as they began walking down the corridor, side by side, arm in arm.

"You know," he said casually, the weariness still evident in his voice, "I could just transport us there."

She thought for a moment, but shook her head, smiling "Let's just take it step by step."

* * *

Jareth felt numb. His thoughts could not escape _her_. How much of the Shadow Queen was in him? How much did she change? How much did she control? His movements felt stilted and slow, but Sarah stayed with him the whole way. 

_Step by step, _Jareth thought. He knew what the next step was, he just didn't know if he could do it. Could he open up that much? Could he allow himself to let Sarah in? _Well_, he mused, _if I can't tell Sarah, then I can tell no one_.

They had reached the door to Sarah's chamber. She had moved to stand between him and the door, an intent, appraising expression on her lovely face. He didn't know what she was thinking and could not rouse enough energy to wonder. Without thought, he rested his arms on her waist and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

He opened them again when he felt her hand on his cheek then his forehead, brushing his hair aside. Her eyes were like the hedgerows the night he had found her, indiscernible green and brown, he became lost in them.

She had not moved her hand as she spoke, "Well, you'd best come in, then."

That roused him enough for comment, albeit not a very articulate one, "In?"

"Yes, in." She was the epitome of patience, and had it been any other time he would have been irked. Her voice softened noticeably, "I won't leave you alone tonight, Jareth. I'm worried about you."

Something about her invitation struck Jareth as wrong. He hadn't furnished the room for her so he could use it. Why bother at all if he was just going to barge in there anyway? He tried to voice his reasoning but could only come up with, "Sarah, I…don't…"

"We could go to your chamber if you'd prefer," she offered. He shook his head vehemently and nearly lost his balance, she gripped his shoulder and pushed the door open. He was inside before he could protest any further. "I don't think you could make it that far anyway, you were falling asleep on the sofa, and that was at least an hour ago." She deposited him on the edge of the bed and as he tried to voice his objection she placed her hands on either side of his face, looking deeply into his eyes she spoke low and resolute, "I am not leaving you alone. Sometimes, Jareth, you need to be taken care of as much as I do."

Finally beaten, mostly because he couldn't remember his original argument, he laid back in mute acceptance and was only dimly aware that she was removing his boots. He became slightly more alert once she had pulled his feet onto the mattress and climbed in next to him. Jareth turned his body towards her and moved his hand to caress her dark locks, spilling languidly across her cheek. She moved her hand drowsily over his, smiling faintly.

He didn't know if she was asleep as he whispered, "I love you, Sarah." But he thought he saw her smile deepen as he let his exhaustion and his dreams take him.

* * *

A/N: Hey, do you know that feeling you get when you finish a really good book? Oh man, I totally gave myself that feeling when I finished writing this chap. It may have been because only an hour before I had finished I pretty good book...I'm not sure. Your thoughts? I feel, though, that the end of this is pretty damn good (maybe on the too fluffy side though) but I haven't done too much of that yet, so im not worried about it. Umm yeah, not sure what's up w/ the next chappie, expect some heavy explanation though...Jareth has a lot to let out...and i don't know what the readers' reaction will be. My original idea for this story, as I have said before, was much shorter...so the ultimate plot development and resolution may be a little anti-climactic for some people. I'm working on it, though. Bear with me please. Anywho, Thanks to the betas...love you much. Check out the review replies from last chappie on my LJ...link in the profile. 

Much love,

atsui

PS. sorry to kizzy for not waiting...for the next few days im gonna be really busy w/ hw...so i wanted to get the chap posted


	16. Early Morning Revelations

Chapter 15

Early Morning Revelations

Sarah woke early and could not get back to sleep. The sky was light but the sun had not yet risen and the Labyrinth seemed captured in a gray and misty slumber. She could hear no sounds of nature, no sign of activity and was left with her thoughts…and her fears. Jareth had taken the nightmares from her dreams but he would not take them from her mind and this was the first time she had been given a moment alone with them.

Her memories of the past year were a twisted montage of pain, hunger, and desperation, with erratically vivid moments of perfect and terrible clarity. She tried to turn her thoughts from what she could not change. Jareth lay peacefully beside her, his countenance untroubled, his lips curled in a half-smile. She could not bring herself to wake him.

She thought of the night before, of Jareth's kiss, coming so quickly after his sudden and unexpected fear, then Aidan's anger as her mind drew the memory of another, rougher, larger hand that captured and crushed the bones of her wrist. It yanked her from the ground, the other monstrously strong hand pinning her frail body against the cold cell wall, "Spread 'em, girlie." The grating voice was loud in her mind. She could almost feel his sharp teeth next to her ear.

Sarah needed to get up, get out, to occupy her traitorous mind. She tried to remove herself from the bed as quickly and quietly as possible, still feeling his hot breath on her neck, but her foot caught in the bedspread and she nearly fell, only just catching herself on the bedpost. She clung to the dark, smooth wood, pressing her forehead against it and fighting to keep her tears silent.

"Sarah?" His voice was thick with confusion and sleep. She didn't look up and barely even heard him, clinging even tighter as the grating voice and harsh breath grew deafening in her ears. She tried to focus on Jareth, but could barely make out his words as he spoke again, this time more fully aware of her distress, "Love, what's the matter?"

Sarah's fear reached new heights as she heard him move…something _move_, she was no longer able to distinguish between memory and reality…or was it a dream? She heard the voice again, "My Mistress wants to hear you beg for it, girlie," it was all around and she sensed a hand reaching for her.

Sarah sprang backwards violently, hitting the wall with a loud thud. The wind was knocked out of her lungs, her legs lost their strength and she sank to the floor. The memory immediately receded and she saw Jareth slowly climb over the end of her bed to the floor opposite her. His eyes remained fixed on her, full of muted apprehension and concern. He didn't ask for an explanation but she felt compelled to speak, "She wanted me to beg for it…" She trailed off, realizing he probably didn't want to know.

Sarah closed her eyes, searching for all the strength she had felt the night before, but the darkness turned her thoughts back to the cell. She could smell the stench of rotting waste and flesh, and forced her eyes open as she began to feel the bile rise in her throat.

Jareth was still there and she knew he was the only one who could help her, "Please Jareth," she didn't even attempt to keep a semblance of pride, her desperation outweighing all else. She pulled her knees up against her chest and pressed her face against them, somehow not able to look at him as she begged, "I don't care about the consequences. Change whatever you want. Break me! I don't care anymore about the power, it doesn't matter. Just, please, make it stop."

His response was so low and gentle that she didn't think she could bear it, "Sarah, look at me." She didn't want to, didn't want to see the pity in his face. He would pity her, but he would still say no. "Sarah, love, I need you to _look at me_," the second time she could not ignore him and raised her head. When their eyes met, Sarah saw the pity, but she also saw his concern and fear for her. She felt his love wash over her as he spoke again, calmly and evenly, "I can't. It would not be fair to me, and it would certainly not be fair to you."

"What if I don't want fair?" She cried, "It's not like you ever gave me fair before."

He pulled a warmly ironic half-smile as he replied, "But you used to be so keen on it." And she was about to reply with something idiotic about how she had been a child then, when his smile faded slightly and he answered truly, "It's the game that's not fair, Sarah. Outside of it, I would not give you anything else."

She closed her eyes in resignation, but the memories threatened to envelop her once again and she whimpered, clutching her knees in rising panic.

"Sarah," Jareth's voice cut through the veil of darkness and she lifted her eyes to stare at him. He looked almost relaxed, still at the foot of the bed, barefoot with his white shirt loose and slightly open. His mismatched eyes watched her intently and she found herself drawing strength from them as he spoke again, "I'm going to tell you a story, love. All I want you to do is just keep looking at me. I can't do as you ask, but that doesn't mean we're not going to get through this together, right?"

And Sarah knew. All of her doubts about childish infatuation melted away as she felt an overwhelming outpouring of love for him at the fact that he could be so strong for her and still be _uncertain_ of her feelings. She knew that she truly loved him. She pressed a hand to her mouth as the tears streamed from her eyes and nodded, not trusting herself to say anything. What she wanted was to cross the room and wrap her arms around him, but she knew she didn't have the strength or the courage yet.

There was a long pause and Jareth leaned his head back against the bed frame, while still keeping his eyes on her. He began quietly and Sarah tried to put all of her attention on his carefully chosen words, "Like the cultures and traditions of the world Above, The Underground has its own beliefs about the creation of the world, its own myths and legends, its own religion and cynics and zealots." He wove the tale beautifully and Sarah quickly became mesmerized by the rise and fall of words and intonation and the uniquely mythical history of his world. She forgot the reason they were sitting there, she left her memories and fear behind as he took her to the beginning of time and beyond.

* * *

Jareth launched into the tale of his world, knowing that he would eventually come to the secrets and shame of his past, knowing that he must tell her, that only Sarah could help him distinguish between what was real and what were only Shadows of truth. Sarah had asked the only question that had broken anything the Queen had planted within him. She was the key to his sanity as he seemed to be the key to her own.

Jareth cursed his Mistress for both their sakes as he recounted the foundations of his race, "All Fae children are taught that the Mother of Light created both worlds and that in the beginning they were one. The Mother was a wise and kind ruler and loved all of her children equally and faithfully. The mortal and mundane creatures of your world and the long-lived and magical creatures of mine lived together on one plane and prospered for many years.

"Alas, as man and immortal have learned through centuries of peace and war, that paradise on earth never lasts. The majority of my race came to think themselves the favorites of the Mother and therefore superior to her other children, because of the many magical gifts and advantages granted them. The leaders of men became fearful of the powers of glamour and persuasion that the Fae possessed in abundance and the two races waged war against each other.

"The Mother saw the death and suffering of her children and was heartbroken by the violence and cruelty they created from their enmity. Knowing that to leave the two races to their own devises would only lead to more destruction and death, she used her glorious power to its very limits to sunder her beautiful creation into two separate worlds, one Above and one Underground. And with a heavy heart, she removed herself from her children, not wanting to choose between them.

"The children of the Aboveground, because of their short memories and brief lives, soon forgot the Mother and chose to believe in other gods and higher forces, most often denying the existence of such places or creatures found in their sister world. But the children of the Underground are compelled by the final gift of the Mother to know and remember those Above.

"The Mother instilled this gift in the Fae at her final parting, proclaiming that each child in their prolonged lifetime will be born, in the Aboveground, for one mortal existence. The Priests of the Mother were given the knowledge to send the spirit of a Fae into the body of a mortal; it is similar to the mortal beliefs of incarnation.

"Many years after the Great Rift between the worlds, my father, the High King of the Court of Light, sent his own spirit to the Aboveground after a woman who wanted to escape the Court and his particular attentions. The Shadow Queen followed them both, intending to create as much havoc and chaos as possible."

Throughout Jareth's speech, Sarah's focus had not wavered and she had been completely absorbed in his words. She had gradually and unconsciously relaxed against the wall and he felt pleased that he had been able to so capture her attention from whatever memories had been plaguing her. But at the mention of the Queen she had started as though being jolted awake and seemed to stop and really think about what he had been saying. Jareth paused, waiting patiently for her to ask him a question or two. He knew she would want to and he needed her to understand everything.

* * *

Sarah's voice felt harsh and she cleared her throat and her mind of all the remnants of her subdued memories, "Did she succeed?" It was really the only question she could begin to articulate about what he had just said. She felt numb, not only from the events of the morning but also from the barrage of new and fantastic information Jareth had just imparted to her. She almost didn't believe any of it, but of course, she knew better.

He shrugged in answer, as though it mattered little to him. Sarah wondered about Jareth's relationship with his father for a moment, but he elaborated when she didn't say anything, "To an extent. The power of women in that time was limited, even with the mortal magic she somehow inherited."

_Mortal magic?_ She thought, but asked instead, "And what era was this?"

He looked squarely at her and his expression changed subtly, almost daring her to laugh, or disbelieve, "In the days of Camelot."

She couldn't help it, she stared at him incredulously, it seemed so far fetched, but she asked the question anyway, "Are you saying that your father was incarnated Above as _King Arthur_?" Jareth nodded solemnly, and she blurted out, "How could that happen? It seems so…"

"Contrived?" He finished for her, in a clipped tone. She nodded dumbly, wondering why he seemed to dislike the subject they were on so intensely. He continued, looking away from her after all that time, she actually felt a little disoriented, "It _was_ contrived. The Priests, in their pride, found ways to manipulate the Mother's gift, ensuring that no Fae would truly learn from the lesson granted them. My Father was maneuvered to inherit power and intercept his prey. _She_ followed closely on his heels, coming as his sister, Morgane."

Suddenly a poem Sarah had read in some obscure English class throughout her long academic career came to her and she spoke without thinking,

"But when Morgan with lifted hand  
Moved down the hall, they louted low:  
For she was Queen of Shadowland,  
That woman of snow."

Suppressing a shiver, she truly believed him, somehow it fit. Another thought struck her, "And the woman your father pursued? Did he find her?"

Jareth smiled bitterly, still looking away, "Of course."

"She was Guinevere?" her question seemed almost redundant. He nodded, not turning back to her, and she pressed on, "And Lancelot?"

Jareth closed his eyes and sighed, his initial words sounded as though he were quoting a passage or repeating a litany, "A Fae's shining brilliance cannot be extinguished by a mortal shell, even when incarnated. There's something about one who is reborn, they still hold an aura of their glamour and those around them find it hard to look away. Lancelot was a mortal who became close to the King and Queen and was blinded by both of them. Guinevere, contrary to your legends, was caught in her marriage and wished with all of her soul to keep the love she had earned, or so she thought."

"Didn't they retain their past memories?"

"I believe that it works differently with each Fae, I do know that Guinevere did not know her true nature until after there was nothing she could do to change her lot or to change Lancelot's artificial love for her. I can't say what Arthur knew. He did use his abilities wisely, whether he knew their nature or not. But his own nature was far from the ideal of the tales and by the end of their lives he had driven Lancelot insane and broken the spirit of his wife. Upon their return to the Underground my Mother became the High King's final and highest ranked wife, for she was the only one to bear him a living son."

Sarah tried to understand what he was saying, why he was saying it, but she still was missing something, "Why call Lancelot's love for her artificial?"

He sighed, "I haven't properly explained the nature of Fae love, Sarah. It is blazingly passionate, but harsh and cruel, dependent on domination and subservience, even among our own. My Father pursued my Mother to the mortal realm to break her. Of all of the Ladies of his court she was the only who would not submit to him. She fled Above and he followed and he made her only possible refuge a living hell. Lancelot fell under the spell of both of them, loving the King and Queen with equal obsession and it tore his mind apart. My mother thought she had earned the love of such an honorable and true man, but when she learned the truth it shattered her as well."

Her mouth felt dry, "It's that way with all the Fae?" She remembered what he had said the morning before, about how easy it would be to change her.

Now he looked directly into her eyes, "It is not with me."

She felt more lost than before and closed the gulf between them. She knelt before him, he still on the floor, and leaned her forehead against his, "_Why_?"

"_I don't know_," his voice was as desperate as hers had been and Sarah realized, as the words of the little goblin echoed in her ears. It wasn't what she had thought to returned to, but she had to help him. She _would_ help him.

* * *

A/N: OMG! It's been soo long kids! I'm so sorry for making you wait so long, but I've died several times of homework since we last spoke and this has been my first chance to sit down and finish up the chap since Vara sent me the beta'd chap on...monday, i think. This week has been crazy, i think I've lost my mind. Anywho, yeah, much explanation in the chap, but hopefully good. Let me know what you think of my immense plot development! Are you shocked? bewildered? thrilled? pissed? I wanna know! Review replies will soon be posted in my LJ, link in the profile. And check out and possibly join the Laby fan community that I created about three weeks ago in a fit of boredom. Ah, boredom...I don't really remember what it's like ;( but that's alright. I think I may enjoy some this weekend, as I will be relaxing...that or writing more of this XD 

love to all,

-Atsui

PS-the poem featured in this chap is "Morgan LeFay" by American Poet, Madison Cawein...no i didn't write it ;D


	17. The Eye and the Teind

Chapter 16

The Eye and the Teind

The Queen saw through his eye. She saw as the little chit threw her tantrum, as her weak and love-struck Steward poured forth the sacred history of their race to a mere mortal, a mere chit of a pathetic mortal. She saw the girl's reaction to the very mention of her name and smiled. She heard Jareth's answer to her futile question and grinned. His eye had seen it all, she held him in the palm of her hand and only she knew how and why...

* * *

_The Moonlight poured silver over her skin and into her hair, she looked like the night. Her eyes shone like twin stars and they danced as she smiled...as she smiled at him. "Come away from the window, Jareth."_

Jareth woke to darkness, lurking, intense darkness that he could not escape, and he was weary of it. His bed was the stone floor, his room a small hole in the ground, the only outlet the mouth of the Guardian. He had received no food since entering the cell. He had been nominated, had accepted this exalted place. He had seen the look of near-pride in his Father's face and felt a small jolt of...something...of happiness? The feeling had soon faded, he was left with a thirst and a hunger that would not kill him, an immortal, but a purpose that would. He needed to accept, to welcome death, but something wouldn't let him.

The Guardian had been at him again, this time for hours until the fiend had finally lost his grip and Jareth fled to the unconscious. "This world is nothing," the Guardian would whisper, in his harsh, rasping hiss of a voice, "it is only in the arms of the Mother that you will find solace. What do you care of the exploits of the Court, of the cares of this, your pathetic immortal existence? What have you done with it? You squander your power as Prince, you use it for no personal gratification or interest. What have you to part with? Nothing."

In his waking hours, Jareth knew the Guardian spoke the truth. It was the only thing he had heard for weeks, how could it not be truth? His was an immortal existence, yet he did nothing. He had no women, no proper title in the Court, no lands to administer for his father. He had nothing to keep him...except...his dreams. He never spoke of the dreams to the Guardian. He was supposed to offer himself up, to reveal everything, to relinquish all of himself. Jareth couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone about the dreams.

Sometimes he wondered if the cell was some strange dream, some hellish nightmare. Oh, he wished it were true. That he could truly wake in the arms of that woman, the woman of night and stars. She was like nothing he had ever known. The Fae women of the Court, even his Mother the Queen, were women who _possessed_ magic. She was a woman _of_ magic.

The Mouth of the Guardian opened with a clang and a squeal of rusty hinges, "Teind-player, Teind-player, what will you be?" The creature mocked him. The ritual would not be staged for days at least. Jareth turned away from the laughing Mouth and wished he had not accepted, wished he wasn't so eager for his Father's pride, for his _love_ even, even at the cost of his own death.

He wished his mother...Jareth stopped his ever turning thoughts there and shuddered. There was nothing to be done for the Queen now. There was nothing she could have done, there was nothing anyone could have done. It had been hanging over them all since his birth. How long would the King wait, to take her completely, to silence her unseemly impertinence, to curb her arrogant protestations? When would he finally smother her pride, her hope, her life?

Jareth unwillingly sank deeper into the disturbing memory; there was little else for him to do in the dark. The night it happened, The Queen had summoned Jareth to her rooms with an urgent but vague message. He came as soon as he could escape the Court dinner The King had been presiding over. He found it extraordinarily difficult to leave, it being his own Coming-of-Age celebration, but he finally made it out, not long before the end of the feast. He had been shown into his mother's salon to see her pacing frantically, a fear in her eyes he had never seen before.

She crossed the room quickly and stood before him, grasping his shirt tightly at the shoulder, "What took you?"

He had worriedly looked her over before answering. She was dressed only in a nightgown and dressing gown, her golden hair was flowing freely down her back, swinging with the force of her anxious strides. "I couldn't escape sooner. Whatever is the matter, _Mamon_?" She smiled briefly at the use of his childish name for her, something he had picked up from mixing the Ancient Tongue words for Queen and Mother. Now, at the still young, but legitimately adult age of 30, he still used it when they were alone.

She reached up and brushed his face lightly with her hand. He was not the tallest of the Fae, but she was almost dwarfish for their race and he towered nearly a foot over her small and delicate frame. She looked up into his eyes and spoke softly, with all the love she had for him, "I wanted to see you...to _truly see you_, once more. The King is coming here after the feast. I think...I _know_ he's going to..."

Jareth couldn't hold it in any longer, "_Mamon_, no! I...I won't let..."

"Hush, my _cheyneu_, you will do no such thing. In the eyes of the court, he has indulged my insolence for far too long. The King's hand is forced, he must do something drastic. I have always known it would eventually come to this. It is a price that some of us pay...it is the way we are..."

"But not you...not me..._Mamon_, I don't understand! Why is it that we are different? Why can't I accept it? Why can't I follow the ways of...the others?"

She sighed, putting both hands to his face as she had when he was a child, "I raised you as I was raised, my _cheyneu_, I did not know how else to do it and I have ruined you for the King. I cannot say that I am sorry for it, although I am sorry I have made your life that much more difficult."

He shook his head, fighting the tears that threatened his pride, "You should not be...you have nothing to be sorry for."

She stroked his cheek once more and planted a kiss on his forehead, "I have much, my son. And I cannot be redeemed for it all," she smiled, almost wistfully, "At least it will be a blissful punishment."

He was about to deny her statement, to defend her honor, even to herself, when the door was thrown open and his Father appeared with an ironic smirk, fixed on his regal face, "I should have known this is where you skulked off to, my son. I was not really surprised, but most young men would try to stay for the entirety of such a grand feast held in their honor. But of course, who could refuse the summons of this lovely treasure," he gestured to the Queen and Jareth visibly bristled.

He opened his mouth, not sure of what he would retort, but he felt a small hand touch his arm. He looked down at her and she smiled sadly, "I have said all that needed to be said. I go with a lighter heart, and you must go with the same."

The King broke in with a mockingly jovial boom, "Are you going on a journey, my dear? To where, might I inquire?"

She shot him a look of pure disgust before she pulled Jareth into an uncharacteristic embrace, whispering almost fiercely into his ear, "You and I shared something few Fae can. I know you will find another to share it with. Do not give up until you do. Don't let them break you, _cheyeu_, they will try. I won't be able to resist him, but _you_ can. You alone are strong enough."

She released him and with an unwelcome glance from his father, Jareth woodenly quit the chamber, stepping silently into the rich corridor. He leaned heavily against the wall and looked down the passage, noting one of the mortal servants blithely cleaning her way towards him. He watched her slow languid movement and felt the usual frown forming on his face.

The High Court stole their servants from Above, it was the origin of tales like fairy-rings and doors under-the-hill. People would disappear and not come back, if they did, they were changed, altered. The girl was young, barely a woman, her face wore a dreamy smile, her eyes were vaguely dull, almost unseeing. To be servant in the house of a Fae was like a permanent narcotic, every sight, every movement, every task was a source of infinite pleasure. To leave that life was hell, the loss of such a feeling was like dying a slow death with no end, he had seen it before.

Jareth seemed to be the only one who thought the practice was immoral and vulgar. These mortals were used for everything, from cleaning and cooking to acts of violence or pleasure or both. He shuddered with revulsion just as the girl noticed his presence. She turned slowly towards him, the smile on her face broadening, "What can this one do for you, Divinity?" Her voice was softer than a whisper, wistful in wonder at _him_. They had changed her, _made_ her that way, and Jareth felt his stomach turn. He fled to his rooms without answering her.

The next morning his mother had appeared for the Court's proceedings, an occurrence that was rare at best. She hung on the King's arm and wore the same vacant expression as the servant girl. Jareth had never spoken to her again. There was never a need or desire from either of them, her world had become his father and she would truly live on in his mind and heart.

"Teind-player, Teind-player, what will you be?" The Guardian would never let him alone.

Jareth turned further towards the wall and whispered, "I will be nothing," before relinquishing himself to the dream.

_Now they were in a garden...or a forest. Sunlight dripped from the leaves of the massive trees and flowed around her. She melted into the greenery, her eyes were alight with life and love, and they danced as they had in the moonlight. She was night in the day, shadow and light personified. "Come, Jareth," she crooned, with a sadness he had not expected in her voice, "Let's just enjoy the day."_

_He drew her to him, pulling her into a tight, possessive embrace. She smelled of a spring morning, fresh and crisply sweet. He ran his fingers into her silken hair, bending slightly to kiss her gently blushing lips. "What was that for?" Her voice was laced with silvery laughter and he smiled._

_He buried his face in her shoulder, "Where did you come from? Where could I have found you?"_

_She laughed again, "Don't you remember? You didn't find me, I called you, and _I found you_. You just had to wait for me..."_

Jareth woke to the knowledge that he couldn't complete the Teind, he couldn't accept a premature death. He had to find her, had to be found by her. As realization dawned on Jareth, the heavy wooden door to his cell opened with a horrific screech, flooding the small chamber in an intensely blinding light. He hadn't seen any light in the many days he had spent in the cell. His eyes felt seared in their sockets and he jerked towards the wall, his hands to his face. Foreign hands pulled him to his feet and propelled him out the door.

He was brought into the audience chamber of his father, still clad in the now filthy garments they had given him when he had entered the cell. Tears of pain from his still adjusting eyes seeped slowly down his face. He could barely stand as the entirety of the Court judged him and Jareth's thoughts turned to the last time he had stood in the same room.

Word from the Territories had come that the Dark had acquired the Labyrinth. The Court was in an uproar over the imbalance of power. Ever since the split of the Great Fae Court, shortly after the Rift between the worlds, the Labyrinth had been a place for meeting of the heads of the Courts of the Light and of the Dark. The Labyrinth had always been neutral territory. But now the Shadow Queen had seized it and something needed to be done to balance the power shift. The Priests determined to resurrect the ancient, even for the Fae, practice of the Teind.

Traditionally a Prince or a King was secluded for the passage of three moons and during that time was made to relinquish all ties to the world. He would be given no company save the voice of the one Guardian and no food or water to hasten the passing of his physical body. The power of his surrendered life would be transferred to the well of power held by the Priests of the Mother, magnifying it by a hundredfold.

In the reality of the so-called modern days that the Fae now lived in, the Priests knew that one did not need to be of royal blood to complete the Teind and expand the power of the Light. But Jareth had stepped forward and undertaken the task, eager for his Father's acceptance, even after the demise of the Queen. Jareth _still_ wanted it.

He had gone into the cell with the desire to die, to pass from his increasingly lonely existence, but he emerged with a need to live and an almost certainty that he wouldn't. They would kill him for his refusal, he would never escape.

The audience hall was unusually dark, lighted only by the red and orange torches mounted to the walls. The court was cloaked and somber. It was a dark ritual they were resorting to and none would soon forget it. This ritual was a desperate act and Jareth would ruin it, he hung his head in despair.

"_Teind-player, Teind-player, what will you be_?" The Guardian's voice penetrated his anguished reverie and he felt the fiend's grip on him grow tight. This is what The Guardian had been preparing him for. The spell was in place, woven over many dark sleepless nights, catching Jareth off guard before he could protect himself. The sound came to him as something magical, something entrancing, and reverberating through him, "_Will you be nothing?_"

Jareth fell into the ritual without thought, "How can I be nothing when I can feel the cracking pain of thirst?" A moment later his thirst was quenched, though no water had passed his lips. Jareth smiled, though something lurked at the edge of his mind, a decision he had made.

"_Teind-player, will you be nothing?_"

"How can I be nothing when the ache of hunger gnaws at me?" Somehow, Jareth knew what to say, and yet he felt that something was wrong. But The Guardian approached him from behind and his hunger dissipated. Jareth could see only the hooded being through the veil of his grip, but now it felt like a comforting embrace and Jareth smiled as if he were welcoming an old friend.

"_Will you be nothing, Teind-player?_" The voice seemed to be chanting, singing him a lullaby.

"How can I be nothing when I feel the cramps and bruises of the flesh?" And all the pains of Jareth's body fell from him. He sighed long and deep, a release of tension,..._ to be nothing... _He felt as if he were floating in and out of a dream.

"_Teind-player, Teind-player, will you be nothing?_"

_A dream_...Jareth jerked from the daze The Guardian had put him under. No, he couldn't do it. He had to live, _she had to find him_. His voice tore from his throat, anguished and already fearful, "Oh, Mother help me, I cannot!"

"_What!_" The Guardian's voice was a screech of pure disbelief. The rest of the spell faltered and all of Jareth's pain returned, causing him to fall heavily to the marble floor.

The King's voice raced, furiously through the hall, "What have you done, boy? Do you betray us to the Dark!"

Jareth writhed at the accusation; he should have known they would think it. "Nnooooo," he moaned, "I betray no one. If I die, I betray myself."

"If you do not, you betray us all." The King's voice was a sentence, Jareth could hear the slash of the scythe, the twist of the gallows' rope.

Jareth tried to force any semblance of strength or confidence in his voice, "Find another, I cannot do it."

The King's glare could be seen from all corners of the chamber, "Oh, We will find another, but you will not be here to see it. If you are not a traitor, you are a coward, and We have no use for either here. Let all know, the Light no longer has an heir, the King no longer knows a son." He paused in his incensed tirade and Jareth braced himself for the punishment. But the King seemed to visibly calm himself and spoke again, more evenly this time, "However much _some_ would wish, the Light does not condone murder, you will not die by Our hands." The King gestured to the guards hovering near Jareth, "Take him from Our sight and Our city. You will never return, _Teind-player_." The last was said with a sneer and Jareth cringed as a wave of self-loathing overcame him.

The guards pulled him backwards from the room. The last thing Jareth saw before the blow to his head let him escape to the unconscious once again, was his mother, the Queen, whose eyes had never left the King, whose smile had never left her perfect face.

Jareth had never felt a pain so strong, a hurt so deep. They had beaten him on the road from the Palace of Light. He awoke in a small, still pool of his own blood. He stood slowly and began walking, to where he didn't know or care. Time seemed to be moving strangely, slow and then fast or jumping from morning to night. Jareth realized at some point that he had taken a severe blow to the head or that he was delirious with fever or hunger or both. Still, he knew he would not die, but could not quite remember why it should be a comfort.

After some time, Jareth saw a woman on the road. She stood still as he was walking, almost as if she were waiting for him. When Jareth realized this, he stopped short, trying to examine her, but he could barely see. He felt his legs begin to shake and he propelled himself forward, so he would not collapse.

She spoke when he was about ten feet away from her, "Poor, poor, Prince." Jareth could see her now and found her to be...strangely beautiful and then he registered what she had said.

"No longer a Prince, Lady." His voice sounded alien to him, faraway, unreal.

"I could make you one again," her voice was honey sweet, thick and strange. Her eyes were ice blue, their pupils sinister pinpricks, cold and calculating. Her hair surrounded her in a fiery halo, falling to her feet in mesmerizing, rippling waves.

He choked out an anxious laugh, "I am not suited to it." Jareth sensed something was wrong. He tried to step back but his exhausted body threatened collapse. He stood, still and fearful, cornered in the middle of the road.

She continued her sweet ridicule as she began walking towards him, "Poor, Prince Jareth. Did dear _Arthur_ throw you out? Did simple _Guinevere_ sit and smile?"

He stared at her in horror, speechless before the Lady of all things Dark, the Queen of Shadows. His father had always said she lived in the past.

Her voice shifted to a soft, melodic croon, he almost didn't hear the malice underneath, "You have rejected their ritual, will you deny me mine? Will you wander the wastes? Or will you take your place with me, with the glory that is the Darkness?"

He shook his head, she was wrong, "N-no, I can go to..."

She broke him off, her hand lightning fast, shooting upwards to grip his forehead before he could react, and causing him to fall to is knees before her. An inky veil engulfed Jareth completely and everything disappeared save him and the Queen. The veil suddenly became a wonderfully warm blanket, surrounding and reassuring him. As Jareth leaned into the hand of the Queen, he heard her laugh and smiled himself.

Her voice came to him, soft and tender, "You have no where else to go, Jareth. _There is no where else for you to go_."

He believed at once and found himself repeating her, as if he were learning a difficult lesson. His words were flat and halting, "No...where...else...to go."

"Yes...yes...very good, my dear, poor, boy," she soothed as she removed her palm from his brow. Jareth swayed so wildly a stiff breeze would have brought him down, but somehow he stayed upright. Abruptly her voice became sardonic once again and she stepped disdainfully away from him, "Oh, do get up! Where has the strength of your father gone, _boy_? Where is your mother's stubborn streak? I suppose we cannot always inherit our parents' best qualities, now can we?"

Jareth blinked, trying to shake the haze and exhaustion from his mind. He stood slowly, trying to maneuver himself away from the witch. How had he fallen to his knees? Jareth couldn't remember. Time had jumped again.

"Well? Out with it! What is your answer, boy?" Her eyes flashed in impatience and her voice practically fizzed with restrained power.

She was displaying her strength, sharpening her claws. Had he the energy, Jareth would have acknowledged it, but he only wiped a hand across his eyes, still trying to shake confusion from his thoughts. He didn't see the Queen satisfied smile as he mumbled, "What was the question again?"

"Will you steward the Labyrinth, _Prince_ Jareth?"

The title brought back Jareth's most recent memories, he was banished...but, he...he had no where else to go, no other refuge, of that he was certain. He fixed the Queen with a look of profound contempt. He would accept, but he didn't have to enjoy it, "You know I have no other choice."

She smiled wickedly, "Oh yes, I do." Jareth averted his eyes in disgust with her and with himself as the Queen's smile widened and she practically licked her lips before continuing, "You must be bound to the Labyrinth itself. You will be bound by the game and the realm. Do you agree to my terms of service? Will you undergo the binding ritual?"

He gritted his teeth, from hatred and to concentrate on staying upright, "You know that I must."

Her grin turned maniacal and suddenly Jareth became irrationally afraid, "Oh, I do, my poor, poor Steward." The terrain changed around them and he looked around wildly, he hadn't even felt the flux of her power. They were now in a large circular stone room, by the sound of the wind, he judged them to be high up. She spoke low and sweet and Jareth felt himself relax, even as fear tugged at the back of his mind, "The ritual must be done inside the Labyrinth. I must take something from you, Jareth. The Labyrinth thrives on dreams, as you will come to know. It must have one of yours. I must have one of your dreams and I must bind it with your blood."

_Dreams_... as she said the words, Jareth immediately thought of the woman. The woman of shadow and light, of night in the day, day in the night, and he smiled.

The Queen spoke at once, soft and dulcet "Ah, got one, have you? Don't worry, dear boy, you won't even miss it."

Jareth did not even notice when she carved a welt along the inside of his forearm. He became surrounded by the dream, the warm bedroom flooded with moonlight, the forest threaded with sunlight and her fresh fragrance, her eyes dancing with mirth and love, her hair, a living shadow, trailing down her back. He reached for her but she lithely evaded him, turning to smile as the forest grew shadowy and grey, fading from his view. Something was happening; something was wrong. "_Just wait for me..." _a voice whispered in his mind as if blown in on the wind. He grasped wildly for it, wait for...wait for what?

Jareth slowly opened his eyes to see the manically grinning face of the Queen and felt the blood dripping slowly to the floor. He felt strangely vacant, terribly and frighteningly empty. It didn't even feel like his own blood flowing from the wound. His limbs were trembling with exhaustion and he backed up until he could support himself against the gradually rounded wall, "What have you done to me...taken from me?"

"Nothing you didn't say I could have. It wasn't my fault you're in no state for negotiations." Jareth felt his hatred for her grow into something base and animalistic. He wanted to rip her throat out as she spoke again, unbearably triumphant, "I see what is in your eyes, Jareth. But I know now you are too weak to be a threat and you will have come to your senses by the time I summon you again. I know your kind. You will take your service quite seriously, for you hold your honor in too high regard. And do not say you no longer have honor, because of the rejection of the Teind. Your shame alone will prevent you from encroaching any further upon it."

She walked excruciatingly slowly towards him and Jareth ground his teeth. She was right; there was nothing he could do. She smiled sweetly and he wanted to vomit, "You see, I have you wrapped around my finger. I think I'll enjoy watching you squirm," and with a soft chuckle she melted into the shadows.

Jareth's legs finally gave way and he sank heavily to the floor of the highest tower of the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. He surveyed the sparse room, utterly empty except for him and his blood. Unknowing, he saw with eyes that were now mismatched, one the warm brown-green of his mother, the other a perfect copy of the eyes of the Queen.

Jareth closed his eyes and gave himself up to a dreamless, exhausted sleep, not even bothering to bind the wound on his arm, still painting the floor red. It wouldn't kill him anyway, but he had no idea why that should be a blessing or a comfort...

* * *

The sun was steadily rising over the Labyrinth, bathing the land in a warm golden glow that snuck its way around the window shades and into Sarah's room. Jareth had taken her comfortingly in his arms and they sat together, still and calm, drawing on each other's strength. He moved to stroke her lustrous hair, but as he did so, his loosened sleeve fell below his forearm. Jareth grew tense as he saw her notice the scar and she gently grasped his hand, turning it to expose the ancient wound even further. He suppressed a shiver as she bent her head and tenderly fingered the once ragged welt, now a thick cord of healed flesh, "How did you get this?" 

Jareth heard his voice grow distant, "I...I can't really remember...I think _she_ gave it to me after I was bound to the Labyrinth. I don't remember...I don't remember exactly how it happened..." He tried to shake the familiar confusion from his mind that always came over him when he tried to remember that day.

Sarah looked up at him, concern filling her gaze as she placed a hand against his cheek and he met her eyes. He wanted to drown in them, to forget everything he _could_ remember when she finally gently entreated, "Jareth, tell me...please?"

There was no way around it now. Jareth told her.

* * *

A/N: Ummmm, yeah. Massive chapter...wow...I can't believe it. Really. I started that Saturday night, finished...now, Wednesday night. It doesn't really feel like that long, but there was much travelling involved in this past weekend, but...yeah. I dunno where I was going w/ that. I've officially dubbed this The Chapter that Ate Chicago (a la my 8th grade english teacher) but yes, it's eleven pages to my usual four or five a chapter. How crazy is that?...crazy i tell you. But I hope that you all enjoy it and understand it. Feel free to ask any questions on an LJ comment or in your review, there was a lot of info in there and I sincerely hope I haven't forgotten to explain anything. Thanks to Heist and Kizzy for making great suggestions for the chapter bookends and for looking at the grammar too. Sorry to Vara for not waiting...you know I have to patience when it comes to this stuff : 

So, in conclusion, PLEASE! IF YOU REVIEW ANY CHAPTER MAKE IT THIS ONE!...I may pull that card on people later, but so far I haven't, so pay attention, children! Reveiw replies for chap 16 are to be found in the LJ as well as replies to the reviews of Such A Fooled Heart, my oneshot. Anyone who hasn't read that should, dispite the fact that its a tad depressing, its also quite good and I highly recommend it if you want more of my writing...you know to tide you over til I get my act together once again.

Muah, I love you all...

-Atsui XD

* * *

**Disclaimer!** I think i forgot last time!...anywho The non-original characters in this story (as that implies) are not mine...as well as the idea of "The Teind" which I stole from Elizabeth Marie Pope (author of The Perilous Gard, which is a great book that I highly recommend!) who probably took it from some british fairytale...unless she came up with it herself and in that case she would be a genius...all things from the Labyrinth are owned by the Hensons, who have not yet been maritally infiltrated by me or anyone I know ;D 


	18. Of Stolen Dreams

Chapter 17

Of Stolen Dreams

Sarah listened to Jareth's haunting story. She became enraptured as he told it first rigidly calm and then increasingly broken and haltingly as it became clear to them both how much he really didn't know or couldn't remember. Sarah's mind was whirling with Jareth's succinct but powerful descriptions of the downfall of his mother, of the ritual of the Teind, of the vague reasoning behind his refusal, of his hazy memories on the road, his jumbled experiences with the Queen.

He finished with a heavy sigh, masking what she knew to be despair, "It…I wouldn't hate it so much…if only the dreams hadn't deserted me…if I had them…if I could _know_ what I knew so clearly. There used to be days when I could almost grasp it, but recently it's like I'd never had them at all…but I _know_ that I did. And I can't help but think…what if this sorry situation is nothing but my fault, my cowardice, my_ failure_." He lifted his gaze to hers, his pain open and exposed, gaping at her.

He seemed to think she could help him piece together his fractured past. Sarah was at a loss, how could she do anything to help this utterly broken man? She, who had only recently been a helpless prisoner of his greatest tormenter, how could she do _anything_?

Jareth's hands had began to shake with rising frustration and Sarah instinctively moved a hand across his cheek, a quietly desperate attempt to soothe him, "Jareth, don't fight it like this. If you can't remember, you can't remember. You'll only hurt yourself this way."

"No, love," he shook his head, "I need to know what she's taken from me. She's got me in the palm of her hand. I...I can't be there anymore. She has changed things about me and I don't remember...I can barely recall how I used to be, who I used to be. I need to find out what really happened. I need to break free and you are the only one who can help me..." He grasped her hand fiercely, a silent plea in his mismatched eyes.

_You's have to help 'im, Sarah_...She shook her head mutely, she wanted to help, but she wasn't out of the woods yet either. Sarah felt sick, who had she been kidding? Everyone in the world was as messed up as everyone else. Who was she to think that Jareth or anyone else would ride in on a white horse and save her from herself? He had enough to deal with.

His voice broke into her thoughts with another soft plea, "We're going to get through this together, right?"

At that she felt a wave of self-loathing come over her. How could she let herself get scared off like that? She moaned miserably and tried to turn away, "Oh God, Jareth, you don't want _my_ help! I can't even get out of bed in the morning without a fit of hysterics! How the hell can I help _you_?"

Jareth had wrapped his arms tighter around her as she attempted to turn away. But, now he paused, swept an examining eye over her and loosened his hold. He must have realized she was a tad overwhelmed as he gave her a crooked smile, "Step by step, love."

Sarah snorted, "Throw my own words back at me, will you?"

His roguish smile only widened and he planted a soft kiss on the crown of her hair, "I'll tell you what, how about we take a break? Let's get up and out a little...I'll show you the gardens or something, ok?"

She smiled slightly, "That would be nice...but, do you think I could shower first? I feel dreadfully gross."

He looked long at her and said flatly, "No, Sarah, you can't take a shower. I'm going to let you rot."

Sarah grinned as she ran away with his joke, "But then I'd get so smelly even _you_ wouldn't want to come near me. I'd be worse than the bog!"

"You do remember what the bog smells like, don't you?" He spoke with a laugh as he pointed towards one of the three dark wood doors in the room.

Sarah extricated herself from his arms and crossed to the door, opening it to see a clean and thoroughly modern bathroom. She felt another smile forming at the fact that he had put such an effort out for her comfort and, feeling a lot more optimistic, turned back to show it to him.

He was still leaning against the foot of her bed like it was the most comfortable place in the world, gazing at her thoughtfully, "One more thing, love." She tilted her head in inquiry and he spoke softly and resolutely, "There is nothing that would keep me from being near you."

Sarah met his eyes and bit her lip through her smile, seeing the truth in them as she felt a slight blush rise to her face. She closed the door of the bathroom and, leaning against it, tried unsuccessfully to restrain a blissful giggle.

* * *

They walked through along the path, arm in arm. The early afternoon sun steamed through the foliage, warming certain sections of the forest. Sarah had come out of the shower looking refreshed, her face free of the tear-stains that had been there for what seemed to him an eternity. He had offered to take her through his gardens, but she shyly expressed her desire to see the Labyrinth again. Jareth had happily obliged and now they were strolling through the immense trees and exposed roots of the Labyrinth's ancient forest. 

She had changed her dress from the one Nadia had loaned her to something he had conjured into the bathroom while she was still in the shower. He had put her in green again, he couldn't help it, she looked lovely in green. It was another simply cut dress, of a slightly darker and earthier hue, that fell to mid-calf with sleeves that ended just below her elbows and buttons all down the front. She was barefoot, her hair still a little damp and her free hand trailed repeatedly through it, trying to get the strands completely dry. The sunlight played across each lock as they danced across her fingers. He couldn't look away from it.

Suddenly she broke away from him and practically skipped to one of the larger spots of sunlight a short distance ahead of them. She lifted her head to the sky and basked in its warmth, a contented smile lingering on her face. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the angel...no, the wood nymph before him.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him only a little sadly, "Come _on_ Jareth, let's just enjoy the day."

Jareth smiled back at her, but felt something pull in the back of his mind and he became disoriented for a moment. He shook it off quickly and reached a hand out to her, she clasped it and he pulled her into a tight embrace. He somehow needed her to be close to him as he felt himself become enveloped in something so intensely _familiar_.

* * *

Jareth pulled her into an almost crushing embrace and Sarah easily reciprocated, she never felt the need to shy away from his touch. She lifted her face slightly, Jareth's lips brushed against hers and they opened, letting their tongues free to explore. Their previous kiss had been all him, but now Sarah put all the force of her feelings into this one and Jareth rose to meet her demand. Sarah felt pleasure run through her entire body. Who knew someone could do that with a single kiss? After an immeasurable amount of time, they parted as Sarah said breathlessly, "What was that for?" 

Inexplicably he buried his face in her shoulder, wrapping his arms even more tightly around her. His voice took on a strangely desperate edge, as if in the last few moments he had become lost, "Where did you come from? Where could I have found you?"

Sarah felt her heart constrict in concern for him, but she had no idea how to respond. He knew where she had come from. He knew so much about her. What did he mean?

Suddenly he pulled away from her, tentatively raising a hand to his forehead. She looked at him wide-eyed, "Jareth?"

"Hmmm?" He didn't look up.

"What did you mean just now?"

Now he did look up, but she saw that his eyes were slightly unfocused, "What?"

"What did you mean before? When you asked me where I came from?" She was really worried and moved a hand to his cheek. He only looked at her blankly, his eyes distant, "What's wrong, Jareth?"

He looked at her, fear and uncertainty was hiding behind his eyes "I...think I blacked out..."

She couldn't hide her surprise, "But you didn't! Y-you held me and then you kissed me then you asked me where you found me."

His face became blank again and she could tell he had no memory of it, "I did?"

She felt her fear for him rise exponentially. She had never seen him like this, yet he seemed only detachedly concerned and that only scared her even more, "Jareth..." she trailed off as her began to speak.

His voice was soft, as though he were speaking from a great distance away from her, "I...had this feeling...that I'd been here before...at this exact time and place with...with you, and then...nothing."

Sarah knew he was trying to puzzle through the confusion of his mind, and despite her earlier misgivings, she knew she needed to aid him, "You mean...like a memory?"

Instantly his brows furrowed and he shook his head, "No, it wasn't a memory. You were in it...exactly as you are now. How can that be a memory?"

She swallowed the huge lump in her throat, "Are you sure it was me?" Sarah thought her insecurity was palpable.

Jareth only shook his head again, "Who else would it be?" He spoke as though there were no other women in all the worlds, and she wasn't sure whether she should be flattered or concerned for his sanity. She really wasn't sure if she should be concerned for it anyway.

"No..." he was beginning to mutter and she did not take that as a good sign, "It wasn't a memory...but it was becoming so clear...and then...nothing."

A thought came to her, "Like déjà vu..." and Sarah gasped as the words of the little goblin and then Jareth himself echoed in her mind...

_The dream. She made him forget the dream. She made him forget you_.

…_if only the dreams hadn't deserted me._

Could Jareth have dreamed of her? Centuries before her birth, before either of them would have ever met? Is that what he couldn't remember? Could the Queen have stolen the dreams from him? Is that how she bound him to the Labyrinth...she used it to steal a dream...she robbed him of his _dreams_ of her?

Sarah felt her knees grow weak and tears welled up as she began to comprehend the horrible wrongs done to him, the immense tragedy of her love's life. "Oh, God no," she moaned sinking to the ground and pressing a hand to her mouth. She found herself once more at the edge of hysteria...it was just too much. She had thought this would be a break. They had been going on a frigging _walk_. The tears flowed once again and she pressed her other hand to the damp forest floor for support.

She heard his voice, "Sarah?" And then he was there, her tears bringing him back from wherever his stolen dream had taken him, "Sarah, love, what's the matter?" His arms encircled her and she began sobbing into his shoulder. She clung to him with all of her strength as the sorrow wracked her body, trying not to repeat the words "I'm sorry" over and over again. How the hell was she going to tell him?

* * *

A/N: Alright...couldn't wait any longer to post. I was waiting for Vara to beta, but I need to get this out of the way and start my homework...ugh, college sucks. Anywho...I like this chap, very dramatic etc. I kind of have this one and the next one stuck together in my head (its almost done w/ the preliminary writing...i dunno when its gonna get finished) but it seems to be going alright too. Amazingly, the end of this story is now in sight. I'm thinking about two chaps to the climax..and two to four for resolution purposes...this may get extended, I know how I write. So get excited kids, all the plot points have been revealed...except for one sort of...I dunno...I will reveal no more! But yes, not much else to say, review replies shall be in my LJ momentarily...love to all readers! 

-Atsui

Disclaimer: Ummmm, yes don't own the Labby or the couple...other characters are owned and loved by me...Morgan LeFay is public domain, ha!


	19. Trust in Fear

Chapter 18

Trust in Fear

Jareth pulled the distraught Sarah into his arms, utterly at a loss as she wept into his shoulder. He entreated anxiously, "Love, what's wrong? What happened?"

But she would only say "I'm sorry" and Jareth had absolutely no idea what to make of that. What, in the name of the Mother, could she be apologizing for? His head was still spinning from trying to sort through the strange experience he had just had. He could make no sense of either the occurrence or Sarah's perplexing reaction and the only thing he could do was hold her.

Jareth ran his hand over her hair, trying to soothe her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. He did the only other thing he could think of, he sang to her. It started out as a soft humming, but he soon broke into the words, "I'll paint you mornings of gold...I'll spin you Valentine evenings..." He heard her sobs quiet and to Jareth's subdued delight, began to quietly hum the tune along with him. He marveled that his song had stayed with her for so long.

It was an old song that his Mother had sung to him once. He had imbedded it in Sarah's dream on a whim. Jareth smiled; maybe his feelings had been showing themselves before even he understood them. He kept up the song, not wanting to break the tenuous calm, "Though we're strangers till now...we're choosing a path...between the stars..." He let her pull slightly away from him and raise her eyes to his own, they were red-rimmed, full of anguish and...something else. He sang on as she raised a hand to his cheek, brushing aside a stray strand of his hair, "I'll lay my love...between the stars...as the p--"

She broke him off with only a whisper, "Jareth, I love you."

His heart was full to bursting as he felt a blissful smile break over his countenance, but it died as he realized there was no joy in her eyes or her face. She leaned into his chest and his arms came securely around her once again, "Love, what's wrong? Tell me, please."

"I don't know how..." her voice cracked and her hand gripped his shirt tightly.

"Is it something I _need_ to know?"

He felt the wetness of her tears as she let out a despairing whisper, "_Yes_."

He was about to question her further, to draw her answers out slowly when suddenly she pulled herself from his chest. She raised her arms and cradled his head, moving one hand to weave into his hair, drawing him into a fierce kiss. He was surprised as much as anything, but soon his desire for her took over and he lifted her further into lap, moving his hands to her waist and thigh. He was, for the moment, lost to all but his love.

* * *

Sarah had no idea what she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted to feel something else, anything other than the wrenching sorrow of her discovery. She wanted _him_ to feel anything but the confusion and emptiness that must have consumed him for centuries...must still be within him now. She wanted him to feel her, she wanted to feel him.

But as she moved against him and he followed her lead heatedly, she felt something that she knew she should have anticipated. Her breath grew ragged and her anxiety began to rise as he unconsciously took control, her hasty plan was coming unraveled. Would she ever stop causing him pain?

Sarah let out a cry of frustration as she tore herself from his increasingly confining arms, "Fuck!" She turned away from him and fled across the path to lean against an immense mossy tree trunk.

She heard him sigh heavily and she cringed muttering into the tree, "God damn it...shit, shit, shit." It didn't really help to swear, but she found herself doing it anyway.

His voice traveled the distance between them achingly gently, he had no right being so nice to her. "Sarah...what...?" He obviously had no idea what to ask. She didn't blame him.

Sarah forced herself to turn around and face him. He was still sitting on the ground where she had left him, his face an almost comical mixture of concern and bewilderment, but Sarah didn't even smile, "I'm so sorry, Jareth...I didn't...I wanted to...but I just..." She couldn't find the words to explain to him, but he seemed to understand.

"Is that what you were upset about earlier?"

She wanted to laugh, if it only were. But instead she just shook her head.

"What was it?" He was being so patient. She wanted to cry again, she knew she didn't deserve it.

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts, "After you...left the library, before Aidan and Nadia came in, I...had a conversation with a goblin."

"You had a conversation with a goblin..." he spoke flatly, not asking a question, as if he were trying to make sure that was what she had said.

"Yes...he--"

"Sarah," he interrupted her, the disbelief plain on his face. "Goblins wander in groups and they are quite brainless. You could not have had a _conversation_ with _one_ goblin."

She looked long at him, trying to be as patient as he had been, "Jareth, if you don't let me get through this, I don't think I'll be able to." He pursed his lips and gave a short nod before she continued, "At the time, I was freaked out, you know, and he started saying some...strange things. At first they didn't really make sense to me, but now..."

"What did it say?"

"First he said that he was worried about you, that you were scared, and that..._she_ hurt you. Then he said that she had you both." She noted how Jareth's eyes widened, and she thought she heard him mutter something, but forged ahead regardless, "He seemed to know so much about you and what was going on, so I tried to get some more information from him. I asked him...what you said...before you left...I asked him what else she took from you. H-he said that s-she made you forget the _dream_, that she made you forget _me_. Jareth, what if...the dreams that you lost..." She paused, perilously close to tears once again and she closed her eyes to prevent them from escaping.

A moment later when she opened them again, Jareth was right next to her, also leaning against the tree. She noticed he was close but not touching her, and she silently thanked him for his apparent unconscious consideration. He turned to her and lightly pressed an index finger to her lips as she opened them to complete her terrible theory. His face was contorted in a doleful mixture of pain and muted anger, "D-don't, Sarah." She looked at him questioningly and he elaborated in a harsh whisper, as if he could not summon up any more of a voice, "Maybe if you don't say it…it won't be true. Maybe…if I don't believe it…then I'll still have them…"

She couldn't hold back her tears for him, "Jareth, I'm so sorry...all these years...all this _time_..." Unable to bear their even minimal distance any longer, she threw her arms around him, thinking with an inward groan that he would be soaked with her tears by sundown at the latest. She should be the one comforting him. He was the one who had had his dreams stolen from his mind.

"Shhhh love, don't cry." He spoke softly into her ear, his voice slightly quavering with uncertain emotions.

"I'm sorry," she moaned into the tangled blanket of his ivory hair.

She could feel his melancholy smile as he replied, "What have you done now?"

"You shouldn't have to be strong for _me_, Jareth. They're your bloody memories! I should be the one comforting you, and all I can do is sit here and bawl." She pulled slightly out of what had become an almost crushing embrace and looked down, her face full of self-loathing, "I feel utterly useless."

"Oh, love, you're not useless," his arms came about her again, and he rested his cheek against her hair. Jareth's lips were inches from her ear and as he spoke softly his words struck home, as if they pierced the very core of her being. "Don't cry, Sarah. It's alright, you're here now. I have _you_, not just dreams of you. I have you and _nothing_ will keep me from being near you now. I love you." His words were accompanied by his warm breath, flowing over her, his scent of down and spices. Sarah felt the distress melt from her, he was right. They were together now, by whatever means, she had found him and she _would not_ let him go.

* * *

Jareth kept a tight rein on his anger, not wanting to further upset Sarah. But he knew that this new revelation was adding fuel to what had become a slowly dying fire. Over the long centuries his hatred towards the Queen had dwindled, only returning with the annual visits he paid to the court. He had become complacent in his role of servant and prisoner. He remembered often feeling as if he was waiting for something. Now he knew what that something was. Jareth moved his hand to smooth his love's hair, not wanting to move from underneath the tree.

He looked over her shoulder and raised his eyes skyward to send a silent prayer of thanks to the Mother when he saw the raven. Jareth froze in Sarah's arms as his blood ran cold.

The raven, the favorite messenger of the Queen, the bearer of every the summons _she_ had ever sent him, sat comfortably on a low branch directly across the path. The unnatural bird's ebony feathers shone in the approaching dusk with an immaculate sheen, for the Queen kept nothing near her that was unclean, except her dungeons and her prisoners. Its eyes were also unnatural, an arctic blue, like the Queen's own. The foul creature saw with the eyes of a witch and looked at Jareth with its head slightly cocked, as though it were looking at a small child in exasperated amusement. Jareth gritted his teeth, pissed that the thing was enjoying itself.

"Jareth, what is it?" Sarah's voice broke his distracted gaze but his heart wrenched with fear as he realized what would happen. Cold panic gripped him as his mind raced with uncertainty and speculation. He still didn't know how much the Queen knew about his relationship with Sarah. Did she know he was harboring her? Did she know Sarah had won the game? Did she know that this was her discarded plaything, alive and well in his arms?

Sarah started to turn to see what he was still staring fixedly at. Jareth knew he had to act quickly and decisively. He took her head in his hands, using a strong but gentle grip. He turned her face back to him, not able to keep a fearful hiss from his voice "Don't, Sarah...please."

Her eyes widened and she grasped his wrist in surprise, lowering her voice in reaction to his fear, "Jareth, tell me what's going on."

Oh, how he wanted to, but his eyes flicked back to the sinister bird, "There is no time, love. I would but...I can't allow her to find you." At that Sarah's grip on his arm became one seeking support and Jareth saw the terror of memory surface in her eyes. He continued, speaking low and quickly, "I don't know how much she knows...I should have been more careful. She's sent a summons...it can't see your face...I don't know what she's going to do if..."

"What do you want me to do?"

As she spoke those words, Jareth saw her fear transform into determination and knew had never loved her more. But he made quite possibly the quickest decision of his extremely long life and steeled himself for what he knew he had to do. He had to make it look as if things were not going well... they weren't, really. But, if the Queen knew he had Sarah, he had to make it seem as though their relationship was far removed from the mutual love and affection that they had discovered in these few short days. If she didn't know...well, she'd have a laugh about him being unlucky in love.

Jareth slid his hand cradle Sarah's neck and tangle in her hair, he leaned forward so that their noses were almost touching, "I need you to trust me, and I need you to fight back."

He only waited long enough to see her eyes narrow in understanding before he pulled her into a fierce, almost violent kiss. She tried to push away from him immediately, but his other arm came securely around her waist and his hand still held her by the neck. She then did something so unexpected he had to choke back a bark of laughter, after he cried out as she bit down hard on his lip.

The humor was short lived though, as he reacted to her impudence as his Father would have, as any other Fae would. Silently begging Sarah's forgiveness, he released her immediately and let his hand fly, hard. Jareth heard the sound of his own hand striking his beloved, followed closely by the damn raven cawing, like a cackling hyena, as Sarah fell in a heap at his feet, her hand pressed to her cheek.

Jareth set his mouth in a grim line, wiping the small trickle of blood from his throbbing lip and bending to haul her to her feet with a brutality he had never before used on a woman. He tried to exude impatience and aggravation as she again attempted to escape his grasp. He pulled her close once again, murmuring, "Here is where you really need to trust me," as he pulled a crystal.

Sarah's eyes widened and she gave an almost imperceptible nod before mouthing the words he had thought she might never say to him, "I forgive you."

However much he wanted to, Jareth gave no outward sign that she had done anything but spurn him. He brought the crystal up to her eye level, giving it a violent twist. He couldn't tell if Sarah was acting as her eyes grew even larger and she tried to back away from him. She, of course, didn't get very far before he dropped the crystal and it transformed into the same shimmering powder he had used the night that she appeared.

The powder drifted on the surprisingly gentle breeze a few feet to where Sarah had retreated. Jareth immediately stepped forward to catch her before she hit the ground in a dead faint and silently called the twins to attend him. He swiftly scooped her limp body into his arms, careful to keep her face hidden from the watchful eye of the raven as he waited for his miniscule court. There was still no reason to assume how much the Queen knew.

Jareth looked about while he was waiting, judging that they were not far from the House of the Wished. A few minutes later the two gold finches flitted nervously onto the path and transformed with little fanfare.

The twins' faces held bewildered confusion as he looked them over sternly before thrusting the virtually comatose Sarah into the brother's arms, "Take this from my sight, Lord Aidan." At the golden man's shocked expression, Jareth moved aside to allow his vassals to view the foul messenger. It let out an impatient caw as he brusquely clarified "I am called away. The girl will sleep until my return." He then cast his gaze back to the Queen's minion, and added as an afterthought, but with a slight shake of his head that he saw Nadia note, "And don't touch my mark on her. I aim for her to remember this day."

Aidan's mouth still hung open, but his sister smoothly stepped in, "Understood, Your Majesty. Shall she be taken to the House or the Castle?"

Jareth filled his voice with ice, but spoke words that, while terse, were also true, "One is as good as the other. I will know where she is."

Nadia gave a curt nod and Jareth turned swiftly away, regretfully determined not to give his love, the woman of his _dreams_, a second glance. Transforming into his owl form he spread his pale wings and followed the raven, who also took flight, flying into the shadows on the horizon.

* * *

A/N: Alriiiight! Yay this chap! I have to say I had some reservations about it, but my betas helped me enormously and now I feel much better. There are many parts that I extremely enjoy and the parts that I didn't like are now better. Yay me! Yay betas! Andso, now that I am done with that...don't expect a chap very soon, I see large amounts of homework in my immediate future. Review replies in my LJ...and join my community, Labyfic!

disclaimer: Ummm, yes, not member of the henson family yet...but a proud user of public domain!

Thanks much everyone!

-Atsui


	20. But For an Eye

Chapter 19

But For an Eye

Aidan watched his king fly into the approaching night as he shifted the deeply sleeping girl more securely in his arms. He looked over to his sister, "I don't have the energy to transport her to the Castle, do you?"

She sighed and shook her head in response. The two of them had used more power in the past two days than they had in some years, transporting the children of the House of the Wished to temporary homes with adult Wished in the Independent Territories. They could not have done it any sooner and Aidan was glad that they had. The important events that Jareth had vaguely outlined to them the night before last seemed to already be starting.

Nadia stepped towards him and moved to brush a stray hair tenderly from Sarah's smooth brow, her hand wandering down to the fresh bruise blooming on the girl's cheek "We'll have to walk her to the House. I'll heal this when we get there." She looked up at him wearily, it had been a long day, "You can carry her that far, can't you?"

He transferred his gaze beck to the sleeping girl. She was light, too light, and he was reminded of the sad events that had brought her back to the Labyrinth. They had only ever heard stories of what went on in the Shadow Queen's dungeons. Aidan felt a sharp stab of guilt at the way he had treated her the previous evening, "Yes, I can make it." His sister nodded and started down the path, walking slow until he caught up with her.

As they walked, Aidan's eyes drifted down to Sarah's peacefully slumbering face. When Jareth had practically thrown her into his arms she had looked half-dead, alarmingly pale and gaunt in her unnatural sleep. Aidan now assumed it had been for the benefit of the Queen's messenger, for Sarah was now easily relaxed in his hold, a slight smile played on her rose blushed lips and her head rested gently on his shoulder, the silken darkness of her hair spilling over his shoulder and reaching down his back.

Aidan let out a sigh of...understanding, he supposed. Like she had told him the night before, _I understand...at least a little. _ They had shared similar pains, but where he had sat around for centuries, languishing in his own private romantic misery, Sarah had taken more initiative than he had ever been able to muster. She had persevered and won her way to Jareth's side, he had no right to begrudge her of it.

As he gazed at her serene face, Aidan also understood why Jareth loved her. If there was one person in all the worlds that Aidan understood perfectly and not at all, it was Jareth. But, Jareth and Sarah he understood, inexplicably, they just...fit. He now knew that he and his king would never have been like that. He was almost glad he had never gathered the courage to pursue it any further. And at least Jareth never need know of his century old secret, he knew Sarah would say nothing. He almost unconsciously tightened his protective embrace of the frail woman.

Aidan looked up slowly to see his sister watching him, a smile brightening her tired eyes. She had seen his silent peace-making with the sleeping woman and he returned her smile with a sheepish one of his own as they approached the House.

The House of the Wished was imbedded in the Labyrinth's forest. Mantled in the thick greenery, it was almost invisible to one who didn't know what they were looking for. Nadia went ahead to open the dark green door and Aidan stepped through into the modest entryway. He looked around for a moment, almost expecting something, but sighed as the emptiness of the House encroached upon him.

The House of the Wished held as many rooms as the caretakers needed at any given time. There was always enough room for all the inhabitants, Jareth had made it that way when the twins were given their powers and positions. But the House was empty now, all the children smuggled to the Independent Territories in case the Queen's wrath should come down upon them all. Aidan resisted another sigh, it had been so long ago now, and he wondered silently what he and Nadia would do when all of this was over. After that night, things would never be the same.

Nadia said nothing, but walked towards her own room on the ground floor and he followed her. There was no reason to prepare one of the children's rooms for Sarah, he didn't think either of them would sleep that night. He laid her down on his sister's richly colored red and gold bed covers and pulled the decorative throw over her for comfort. It was a warm night so she wouldn't need much more.

As he did so, she shifted languidly and unconsciously grabbed for his hand. Aidan looked up at his sister almost like a mouse caught in a trap as the sleeping woman gently pulled him by his captured hand onto the bed. Nadia only grinned at him, a wicked twinkle in her eyes, and moved to the other side of the bed. She smoothed her fingers across Sarah's bruised cheek, pressing her palm lightly over the darkening purple, closing her eyes and tensing her body. To anyone else it would have looked as though she was doing nothing, but Aidan knew she was using her last dregs of strength. Slowly the mark receded until it was gone completely and Nadia removed her hand, leaning heavily on the bed.

Aidan reached over Sarah to steady her, "Alright?"

She nodded slowly, "Just…so tired…"

He gently pulled Sarah closer to him, widening the space on the other side of her, "Lie down here. I'll watch for Jareth, nothing's going to happen till he gets back anyway."

She nodded again and laid herself next to Sarah, falling asleep almost immediately. One-handed, Aidan pulled some of the blanket over her and smoothed her hair back from her face. He shifted into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the headboard and could not restrain another sigh. He was not looking forward to waiting through the calm before the storm.

* * *

The Queen of Shadows walked to her throne room, readying for her audience and contemplating her Steward. He was important..._no_, she grudgingly amended, he was _essential_. She could not retain the Labyrinth without him. In the beginning she quite possibly could have, but now that the two were linked in their "imprisonment", as her Steward so liked to term it, she could not separate them. 

Her musings continued as she glided into the chamber. Her subdued green and purple heavy skirts swirled with her confident but smooth strides. Bedecked in the skins and teeth of some of her most prized and memorable toys, she also glittered from the myriad pieces of gold and silver hanging from her neck and hands and woven through her rippling darkly auburn curls. She cut a motley but striking figure; it was how she had appeared for millennia, even favoring the style in the High Court of Camelot. She was, after all, the Queen of Shadows and shadows were a dense gathering of the sundry aspects of darkness itself.

Mounting her beloved obsidian dais, she lowered herself onto her throne. The boy was clever, she would grant him that. Had she not the advantage of his eye...but she would not dwell on what was not. He had the disadvantage that his idiot mother had bestowed upon him, the _love_ he felt for her, still, after all this time, the _love_ he felt for the bleeding chit, after all she'd done to the filthy creature. It was a weakness, one she could and would use against him.

It was out of the question now to allow him any more freedom, until recently she had enjoyed watching him in his misery. But he needed to be taken in hand. The Queen smiled in anticipation, oh how she would enjoy this audience. She would forge unfailing loyalty in his eyes and she would see both the color of ice and shadow before the night was out.

* * *

Jareth strode determinedly towards the massive ebony doors as the Queen's foul messenger flew past him to merge with the pervading darkness, its task completed. The Goblin King's face contorted into a fearsome scowl. He loathed the place and everything to do with it. He cast his hateful glare over every horribly brawny guard, cursing each one for any role they had played in Sarah's imprisonment. 

He bared his teeth as the puny Accolon admitted him to the throne room, a feral air about him, and a wild look in his eyes. Jareth let the flames of anger lick the core of his power red hot. He felt the waves of his hatred roiling off of him as heat from a furnace.

The Queen, the witch, sat comfortably on her throne, almost lounging. Jareth's eyes flashed as she leaned forward in the blackwood chair, her elbow resting on the arm, her chin cupped elegantly in her hand. She spoke low and sweet, as if greeting an honored guest or an old friend, "How _kind_ of you to answer my summons _so quickly_, my Steward."

Jareth's stomach turned at her honeyed tone, and he spat the words at her, "I am nothing of _yours_."

She tilted her head, her cold eyes so bright with knowledge he had no notion of that they almost glowed in the all-consuming dark of the immense chamber, "Are you not?" Her mask-like face split into a red-tinted grin, "Did your mother not teach you to lie well, boy? Or did she ruin you and tell you not to lie at all? The foolish bitch. I saw in you, Jareth, you could have been the best of the Mother's Honored Race, you would have outstripped your dense, light-reaching Father. Nothing would have stopped you. But your Mother-cursed _Guinevere_ left her freakish ideals imprinted in your young mind. The whore taught you something _no_ Fae should know, and I've tried to break you of it, but you refuse to attend."

Jareth's fury reached a breaking point, he cast his power to the ebony stone floor and to the walls, shaking the foundations of the room. Shards of stone fell about him from the ceiling as he snarled, "Speak of my mother in that manner once more and—

She broke him off with a mirthless cackle, "And you'll do what, _boy_? Do you think you can challenge me, here in my place of power? That was quite a spectacle, Steward, but you cannot hope to defeat me unless you have the power of the Labyrinth behind you." She smiled at him and spoke as if she were addressing a child, "If it were any other enemy you desired to pursue, I'd say you could do it. But don't you think I would have taken precautions against such mutiny? There is no way the Labyrinth will turn against me."

Jareth said nothing, he stood in the center of the chamber, his hands shaking from the pent up fury. He could only wait for her reason for summoning him.

"Speaking of spectacle…" she produced another grin, but somehow this one was filled with a black humor, as if she were laughing at a personal joke, "That was quite a display you put on for my messenger."

Jareth's blood ran cold as she continued speaking, "But you showed your hand…in more ways than one."

He grasped desperately for something to keep his secret, whatever it was. He tried for a slightly flippant tone, "My hand?"

"Oh come, Jareth, it was a very nice bit of acting, on the chit's part especially," Jareth gnashed his teeth at her casual insults, but she didn't stop, "But you made a fatal mistake."

When she paused Jareth spoke, but he could hardly believe he was forming coherent words, anger and frustration had begun to tinge his vision red and he could see almost nothing but his desire for her death, "What was it?"

Her grin never left her face, "If you had really wanted to hurt the chit, if you were not secretly concerned for her ultimate welfare, you would not have hesitated to put her completely under your power. You would have allowed one transgression and then taken her, there would have been none after that and she would have been _conscious_ the entire time."

He looked her straight in the eyes, trying to keep up his pretense, "That would have ended the chase."

She stood and stepped gracefully down the dais, slowly approaching him. Jareth's whole body was quivering, it would be extraordinarily bad if he attempted to strike her, but oh, how he wanted to. The Queen spoke bluntly, "You are not your father, Jareth. You are _not_ a sadist."

Jareth closed his eyes in resignation, knowing her words to be truth and welcoming that affirmation, but still hating her for seeing through his ploy. She had come closer to him when he opened his eyes again, but he refused to back away.

Her words became softer than he had ever heard them, "I always thought that what he did to your mother, however much I dislike her, was excessively cruel. By waiting so long to effectively take her, not only did he break her will and power, but he also broke her mind. He also lost _you_ for any useful purposes by not taking her to task at a much earlier time. He should have done it immediately after you were born. I would have had a much easier time of it if those silly dreams of yours hadn't got in the way. And now, here we are...I suppose we can just blame all of this on dear old Arthur."

During her speech, Jareth had almost lost track of what she was saying. Something...strange was happening, coming over him. It felt almost as though someone had wrapped a blanket around his head, the world became softer and muffled. But as she said the word "dreams" he came slightly awake, flashes of recent memory pierced the haze..._dreams_..._Sarah_.

Jareth stumbled back, away from whatever spell she had been trying to envelope him in. He ran through what she had said, trying to make sense of it. He spoke finally, breathless and the Queen smiled again, he wished she would stop it, "A much easier time of what?"

"Making you mine _completely_, dear boy."

Jareth's whole body went still at her words, "_Completely_? I told you, _I am nothing of yours_."

"Jareth, my dear, you are in denial," she gave him a smile of pure condescension. "I have had you wrapped around my finger since the day I met you on the road to the Independent Territories."

His eyes widened, did she know...

"Yes," it was as if she read his mind and all of Jareth's anger and strength faltered as she completely undermined any power he thought he may have had. "Ever since that day, you have heard nothing, seen nothing, and done nothing that I did not know. I see through your eye, Jareth, I see all that you see and I know all that you know. Granted, my attention has wandered from time to time...when your beloved little chit managed to beat the game, for instance. But since she has reentered your life, I have paid careful attention to everything you've done." The witch grinned wickedly, mockingly and Jareth felt numb and small, "I especially liked the part when you combed her hair, very tender, Jareth, very romantic."

Jareth mind was reeling, all he had done, all he had felt, she had seen and laughed at and belittled...all his pain, all _Sarah's_ pain. He began to desperately cast his gaze about the room. He had to find something, to get himself away. He had to get Sarah away from her...from the Underground all together.

She stepped forward again, approaching him slowly, as a predator to its prey, "What are you looking for, Jareth? Do you think you can find an escape? I am in your head, boy, I know your mind!" Her voice was laced with triumph and Jareth steeled his resolve once more, she had not won yet. There _was_ a way out, a way that_ she_ could not see.

He closed his eyes, trying to at least veil her vision of his thoughts. She had said she saw through his eye... Jareth searched his awareness; he needed to discern which eye. Finally, he felt it, a slight difference. His right eye held an almost imperceptible coldness, in fact, so cold that it seemed to merge with the heat of his own body.

The Queen's voice penetrated the lengthy quiet, and he was surprised that she had waited even that long, "You should be clever enough to know that just closing your eyes is not going to help."

Jareth's eyes snapped open in defiance and he thrust his left hand out towards her, casting his power to one of the ebony shards that littered the cold stone floor. His answering words dripped thickly with hatred and his own defiant triumph, "I think that it has. I also think that you have not considered that I would be foolish...or clever enough to do _this_."

Jareth decisively pulled his hand back, sending the shard to pierce directly into his right eye, like the swift bolt of a crossbow. He staggered at the impact, but did not cry out. Grinning almost inanely as the Queen screeched her fury at his bold defiance; he righted himself and faced her.

For some reason, Jareth felt no pain as he reached again with his left hand, this time to wrench the shard from his frozen eye. He held it loosely for a moment, turning his head downwards as if contemplating the thing. Dark crimson blood melted the ice of the shadows and flowed freely from the now open wound, dripping into his palm, soaking his tool of choice...or tool of convenience for self-mutilation.

He somehow found the whole situation rather amusing now and looked up, a frightening humor lurking in his good eye and in the tilt of his brow, "Will you see into my mind now, _my Queen_? Will you see what I do _now_...now that I have removed your _spyglass_?" His hand tightened around the sharp stone and he hurled it at her, knowing that she would deflect it without a thought, but taking her momentary distraction as a means for escape.

Jareth didn't bother with his owl form, opting to utilize a greater amount of power and disappearing from the cold, black chamber at the drop of a crystal. The only evidence he had ever been there the fresh blood left discarded on the stone and the frenzied curses of the Queen of Shadows.

* * *

Oh my! Ummmm, I really have nothing to say about this...let's just let it speak for itself... 

Thanks to the betas...once again only going with two, but I am impatient and I have homework and Heist told me not to change anything...can you imagine what _that's_ done to my ego? You can't. I'm telling you now...no more writing will be done until Thanksgiving Break or maybe even after...sorry everyone but classes shall kill me and then I have like 8 movies to see (cuz my puny college town has none...so I have to go home to see movies) Ok...I have to go to dinner, enjoy all! Check the LJ for review replies!

-Atsui XD XD

PS...I'm changing the rating to M next chap...I feel that it is reasonably violent now...ummm so for all of you who don't have me on alerts make sure your just in lists shows M because you won't see me otherwise!

Dislaimer: don't own, am hungry!


	21. Vision Unbound

Chapter 20

Vision Unbound

Morgane, the Queen of Shadows, seethed in her dark chamber and cursed the day she had brought her old enemy's petulant son to the Labyrinth. But no, he was not out of her power yet. She could still reach the Independent Territories and he would never return to the Light. He had somehow got it in his head that she'd tainted him. He would never think himself worthy of going back. And there was no way he would leave the Mother-cursed girl. He would go back to the Labyrinth to get her, then attempt to get out of the Underground. But he would not find a way.

The Queen smiled, as long as Jareth was still within her reach, she would still have power over him. Just because she couldn't see what he was doing, did not mean that he had won. Her audience had only been the first battle of an infinitely larger war. Jareth would do well to remember that.

She raised a white hand, silently calling her favorite messenger. The raven alighted on her slender fingers and she stroked her familiar idly, thinking on what would be appropriate. The usual grin spread across her face, what better way to provoke her Steward than to take back what she had so generously given him, the thing that he loved best?

Morgane spoke a few short words to her raven and sent it to carry out her dark plans. She gazed after it, seeing far into the darkness, smiling as she thought of what was in store for the little chit.

* * *

The crystal moon cast a pallid glow upon the Goblin King's starlit realm as he materialized soundlessly at the rise. He looked out over the wide expanse of stone walls, hedge rows, and dense forests. The usual midnight noises of the Labyrinth were eerily silenced. The entire realm knew that danger was upon them, that change was in the very air. Jareth's marred gaze lifted slowly to the pale light of the castle, a faint beacon in a sea of fog and night.

Jareth thought that it may be the last time he would look upon his realm in this manner. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking slightly and were covered with fresh and drying blood. Jareth felt no pain from the wound, none at all. It had become numb, or he had become numb to it...she could no longer touch him. Jareth tried to repress another grin. It really was an inappropriate time for such humor, but as in the Queen's throne room, he could feel a detached sense of almost hysterical relief flow over him...she could no longer touch him. He was free of her invisible hold, her horrible all seeing eyes.

But Jareth's grin fell as the realization dawned that it wasn't over, that he had done nothing but remove himself from her sights. She could still come after him, she could still harm _Sarah_. Jareth's irrational trembling transformed into a lengthy shudder, but he resolutely began to gather his strength for what was undoubtedly to come.

He needed to protect Sarah, he needed to get her out of the Underground. This was not her world, it had never been, and she was too good for it. Jareth tried to remember back to shortly after he had been tied to the Labyrinth. The spirit had...communicated to him somehow that there was a way out...that he could escape. At the time, Jareth had seen no reason to leave. He had been made to think that there was no where else for him to go. But now...things were different, very different.

Jareth turned his back on the castle, on the realm, speaking quietly to the empty air, knowing he would be heard, "Show yourself."

There was no answer and his mouth settled into a grim line, "You've shown yourself to her...why not to _me_?"

Finally a small head poked out from behind a large rock. The little goblin nervously cast his eyes at Jareth and scrambled up on the rock, "Dis isn' really me, Jaweth."

His good eye grew hard and his scowl deepened, "It's close enough. After all these years...why didn't you tell me you could do this?"

The little creature had the gall to look guilty, mumbling uncertainly, "You never asked..."

Jareth's shout could be heard for miles, full of frustration and desperation, and he took an accusatory step towards the increasingly frightened looking goblin "Did Sarah have to _ask_!"

Suddenly the wind picked up and Jareth fully felt the presence of the spirit of the Labyrinth. The little goblin's eyes now seemed to hold an ancient wisdom and its voice deepened slightly, "There were things Sarah needed to know. You could not have told her. I could not have spoken to her in the way that you and I can speak."

"But...you and I don't _speak_..." Jareth shook his head, more confused than angry, "Until now, I wasn't even sure that you had enough intelligence to form words..."

His mind turned to when Sarah had said that a _goblin_ knew those things about him. Jareth had known immediately that it was no ordinary goblin. But everything that he thought he knew about the spirit was now in question. What else could it do that he'd had never had any notion of? What else didn't he know?

"This type of communication is by no means easy for me, Jareth. But it is what you requested and it is an easier way to tell you what you need to do."

"And what is that?"

The spirit paused, as if uncertain how to begin, "First, you need to ask yourself a question." Jareth put a hand to his head. _Of course_, didn't it always begin with a question..._whatever is the matter, Mamon_..._will you be nothing, Teind-player_..._will you Steward the Labyrinth, _Prince_ Jareth_..._do you want this gift, Sarah_..._what happened, Sarah_..._what _do_ you want, Jareth_...

His thoughts were broken by the spirit, "Will you seek revenge, Jareth? Will you seek it as far as a war? Will you seek it to your death?"

Jareth leveled his gaze at the small creature, "I believe that was three questions. And they are all for Sarah. I do everything for her and nothing without her."

He nodded slightly and pulled a knowing smile, "A wise and understandable philosophy, and one that I whole-heartedly agree with." Jareth returned the slight grin with one of his own. He could feel that the spirit knew that there was something about Sarah, something worth loving, worth saving, worth fighting for. And as their gazes met in a silent understanding, Jareth thought that maybe the two of them were more similar than he had ever expected.

Suddenly the numbness that his eye socket had become began to change slowly into a dull throb. Jareth put his hand once more to his wound, pulling away with even more blood upon it. He stared at it a moment, somehow not really sure what should be done.

The spirit broke his sluggish thoughts, "Why have you not yet healed yourself, Jareth? You must keep your strength in tact, you will need it."

Jareth transferred his gaze to the little goblin, his voice again oddly detached. The throbbing was growing stronger. It interfered with his thoughts, "My strength...? I-I haven't any left. I used it to get out...I wasn't thinking, I suppose."

The creature gave him a look full of skeptical concern, "I suppose you were not."

The wound's steady throb was now becoming sharper, more painful. As he swayed slightly on his feet, Jareth closed his eye and thought he probably should have considered the effects of such a deep and penetrating wound before he subjected himself to it. Even during his flight from the court, he'd never been so gravely injured.

After a moment, Jareth heard the voice of the spirit once again, but this time it was even deeper and seemed to be in the very air, flowing and churning soothingly around him, "I can aid you, Jareth, but you must give me your trust. We do not have much time, the Queen may even now be moving against us."

There was little need for deliberation. Jareth knew that this was probably his only hope of escaping alive and with Sarah. He had no other way to her or even out of the Underground, especially with the wrath of the Queen at his heels. He spoke softly to the spirit, not an answer, but a question, "What are you going to do?" He was not about to enter into another blind bargain.

"As I have entered the body of this, one of my many creatures, I can transfer myself to your body, lending you my knowledge and my strength. If you accept my aid, you and I can become one, making our exodus from this world faster and easier."

"_Our_ exodus?"

"I do not like being a prisoner anymore than you do, Jareth. I am no longer used for my original purpose and it sickens me. You have never seen me in my full glory...once I was something to behold. I was the Mother's Stronghold, the High Court of the Earth. I was the gathering place of the Kings and Queens of old and the House of the Mother Herself." The spirit's voice seemed to permeate Jareth's entire body and images of the Labyrinth, the forest bright and lush, the stone white and the castle shining and golden, the tower piercing the sky in an almost blinding radiance.

"The dreams of the mortals were shared, not stolen, and they enriched both worlds. _She_ has twisted me into something I was never meant to be. I am tired of this enslavement, Jareth. Let us fly from _her_ together."

Jareth tried to consider his options. His wound was extremely painful, but he knew his own mind. He could not escape without the aid of the Labyrinth. Jareth's vision blurred as he felt the last of his strength fade within him, but he voiced one more question, unwilling to proceed without the spirit's assurance, "You will not take control from me?"

The spirit smiled almost indulgently and Jareth thought he heard a chuckle, but could not summon the energy to frown. The spirit's voice was soft and reassuring, enfolding Jareth and already lending him some strength, "I will not."

"Do it then. I accept."

* * *

A/N: I shall unofficially title this chap as I did my beta email: Anyone Who Reads My LJ Should Know I'm Retarded. I wrote this chap, thought it was shit, revised it drastically, and somehow still thought it was shit...even though upon fixing a few minor details and reading it again last night, I found it was perfectly fine. I was going to add more, but discovered that there WAS a feasible stopping point (which also conveniently helps me get around some difficult discription) and after sending it out and getting back from Heist...have decided to post. Sorry to crystal for not waiting...I'm so impatient, babe...

Now, this chap is by no means my best work...nor in my opinion, is it very exciting, however it does set up for what i hope will be and extremely exciting climax and conclusion. So please, please, please review for me darlings. Also, I apologize on my knees for making you all wait so long, this chap nearly sent me over the edge before i realized it was not crap...i still really don't know what i was thinking.

I have papers due and finals next week so don't expect stuff until after the 16th of Dec. after which I really really want to finish this thing up, a feat which may or may not happen.

Thanks to everybody who has reviewed...I think I'm going to use the reply buttons to my reviewers, but I'll also post to the LJ for those who wanna read...as promised I will also change the story to M so don't forget to check for it, Kids...

thanks and love, atsui! XD XD


	22. The Path of the Golden Tree

Chapter 21

The Path of the Golden Tree

She was tired, really tired, but something was pulling at her, tugging her awake. But she was so tired...why was she so tired? She had been enveloped in blackness, sleep without dreaming. She was glad of it...but why should she fear her dreams? The something tugged at her again. She stirred on the soft bed, pulling the blanket once more around her...a bed? Hadn't she been somewhere else? Why was she even sleeping? Sarah heard voices speaking softly.

"She's waking..."

"He must be near."

What had happened? It seemed to be a familiar question. Sarah's thoughts were sluggish...when had she fallen asleep? She felt as if she'd been submerged in an ocean of blissful ignorance. She could barely remember anything at all, but knew she was slowly resurfacing.

She heard footsteps coming into the room, "_Jareth_..." It was Nadia's voice, but strained, as if she had let out the name in one awestruck breath. Sarah stirred once more, but was still too tired to open her eyes.

She knew his presence at once, Jareth, her love. The knowledge filled her with an extraordinary peace as his voice filled the room. The sound was strangely soft and calm. Sarah smiled to hear it, "It's alright, just leave us for a moment. Then I'll explain as much as I can."

There were more footsteps and the dull thunk of the door latch. Sarah frowned slightly, she was still tired, and she wanted to sleep. Suddenly there was a weight added to the side of the bed and Sarah's frown vanished. He moved a hand to her face while she shifted languidly, snuggling into his lap, her eyes still shut, the lids too heavy to lift. The room became quiet and still, she could hear his breathing. The sound was deep and calmly rhythmic. She thought vaguely that he hadn't been so calm in days.

Sarah's mind was still buried in sleep and she couldn't remember what had made him so anxious before. But she retreated into her exhaustion and thought no more about it. His hand came to rest on her hair and she took in his scent. It was different somehow...not the warm down and cloves she knew from...before, this was an earthy metallic fragrance. He smelled of sweat and the outdoors and something else...something she'd smelled before...something she'd tasted, but slightly different than even that. It was uniquely him.

"Sarah...love, you have to wake up now." His voice and the smell in her nostrils roused her, but she fought it...she wanted to sleep.

"Mmmm tiiired," she mumbled, burying her face further into his lap. The smell became stronger, it was in his clothes. She tried to ignore her unease.

She heard his smile, she felt his hand move over her hair, rousing her even more, "Love, we don't have a lot of time...there's something I need to know." At the last his voice fell slightly, it was less calm, more troubled.

Sarah finally lifted her head a little, propping herself up on her forearms as his hand cupped her cheek. His thumb reached to brush over her eye brow, coaxing her eyes open. Sarah looked at Jareth through bleary eyes and her mind snapped to attention, remembering everything. It was blood, the smell, he was nearly covered in dried and drying blood. His hands were stained completely red, his clothes were spotted and small brown flakes had fallen from him to the bedspread. He had gone to _her_, she'd bit his lip, he had hit her then knocked her out. The Queen had summoned him, but what had happened? She pulled herself more upright and moved her gaze to look him in the eye. Sarah gasped loudly.

He gave her a reassuring smile as their eyes met and she somehow found herself relaxing. He didn't say a thing, allowing her to look him over thoroughly. The wound had been his right eye, the blood had flowed from that side of his face, but there was not a scratch on him.

Sarah put a hand to his cheek, underneath the healed wound. He seemed to shiver at her touch, although she had no idea why, her hands weren't cold or anything. Sarah needed to know what had happened, what had the Queen _done_?

His eye was no longer the cold blue that she had disliked so intensely when she saw him after so many years. Its entire surface had become a pearly white color that was strangely luminous, like moonlight through the clouds.

She finally spoke in a hushed voice, although she had no idea why, "What has she done to you now?"

He smirked at her, both his eyes somehow filling with an ironic mirth, "Actually, most of this is my own doing."

"_What_?" Her voice was choked and harsh and she suddenly remembered how she had despised his penchant for drama and ambiguity when she was young. "Jareth, you're covered in blood! Don't tell me it's hers...it _smells_ like you..." she broke off abruptly, wondering how she had perceived that.

His eyes flashed and he cocked his head slightly, as if he were listening to something. "No," he whispered, but she didn't think it was directed at her, "We don't have time for that...no, it doesn't matter, it can wait."

"Who are you talking to?" She was starting to get frightened that he ultimately had gone over the edge.

His gaze flicked quickly back to her and he actually looked rather embarrassed. He stared long at her before beginning to speak, "First, I need you to know something. Before we talk about anything else, know that if you ask it of me, I _will_ kill her for what she has done to you."

Sarah stared at him incredulously. She didn't understand...where had that come from? What _had_ the Queen done to him? Her voice came out strangled in disbelief, "To me? What about what she has done to you!"

Jareth shook his head, but still kept his now even more mismatched eyes locked to her own, "It doesn't matter...I would only seek revenge on your behalf."

Sarah's mind unavoidably turned to the Queen and her dungeon. The things that had been done to her always lurked at the back of her mind. If she forced Jareth to be drawn into it...into even more hatred and violence than he had already seen...he was her anchor. If she lost him somehow in getting that revenge...it might get her satisfaction, but how much? How long would she have to wait? And at what price? She spoke slowly and deliberately, knowing her words to be the truth, "I don't want it. I don't want revenge, or retribution, or whatever...I only want you. Now, tell me _what happened_."

He gave her a melancholy smile. She had figured he would have been pretty confident in her answer, but he looked obviously relieved anyway. His voice was still as calm as it had been since he'd entered the chamber, "It's unfortunately a long story that I'm going to have to abridge for you, love."

"Why are we in such a hurry?"

He smiled, "I'll get to that..." Jareth's face suddenly darkened slightly, as, she had begun to notice, it always did when he prepared himself to speak of _her_. "The short of it is, for the past 500 years or so, my right eye has been the spyglass of the Queen."

Sarah's jaw dropped and her heart constricted in unbridled fear and almost... embarrassment, "She saw _everything_?"

Jareth returned her reaction with a bleak look, "She did concede that her attention was elsewhere during your 13 hours in the Labyrinth. But since your return we both have been the object of her malicious scrutiny." Sarah looked down into her lap, it was nauseating to think..._she_ had seen everything, she still knew _everything_ about her. Jareth continued speaking, he didn't touch her, didn't console her. Sarah guessed he just wanted to get through the explanation, "She had called me there to...put me completely under her power. I suppose because I was no longer able to be manipulated. I...pierced it with a shard of her black stone and fled from the fortress."

Sarah lifted her eyes again. His face held a haunted look and she shifted closer to him, tucking her head under his chin, offering him her silent support and waiting for him to continue. His arm came automatically around her as he spoke again, "The goblin you conversed with in the Library was not an ordinary goblin."

"I didn't really think it was, babe." She let herself smile into his chest and he chuckled in answer.

"It had been inhabited by the spirit of the Labyrinth. Yes, the Labyrinth has a spirit, a...consciousness, I suppose."

"Well, that explains why he knew so much about you..." Sarah wasn't really that surprised; she remembered that the maze seemed to have a mind of its own all those years ago.

"I called him to the rise. I wanted to talk to him, because I'd never really done that before." His voice seemed to move farther away from her, like he was speaking about a long time ago, but it couldn't have been more than an hour or two.

She interrupted him, wanting to bring him back, needing him to be with her, "Why hadn't you spoken to him?"

"Before he was just...incorporeal, a floating spirit. I didn't even know he could do that. So, I called him. I wanted to know what else I didn't know." He smiled quite strangely and his gaze became distant again.

She pushed gently away from his chest, and cupping his face in her hands, softly spoke his name, "Jareth, I thought we didn't have that much time."

He started and looked half embarrassed once more, "I'm sorry, love...it's been a strange night." He shook his head again and continued after a moment, "But I didn't have enough strength to learn much. I had lost a lot of blood...I didn't even have even enough power to heal myself. The Labyrinth offered me a bargain..." he paused and shook is head, as if he'd been interrupted, but Sarah hadn't said anything. "No, it wasn't a bargain. The spirit aided me and together we..."

She broke through his explanation once more, not understanding why he seemed so distracted, so far away, "_Together_? Is he here?" She looked around the room, but saw nothing.

Jareth gave her a slightly pained look, as if was not really sure what to say, "In order to heal me, the spirit entered my body." Her brows shot up, but he continued regardless, "Sarah, the spirit is within me...we have become...one...er, well, that's the easiest way to describe it."

Sarah was a little weirded out, to say the least, that there was _another being_ inhabiting him at that very moment, but she tried to find a logical way past it. She decided she would do this by asking questions, "So...he healed your eye?"

Jareth nodded.

"And he just stayed in there? He's inside your head?"

He repeated the motion and spoke, sounding surprisingly exasperated, "That's partly why I seem so distracted. It's because _he_ won't shut up!" Jareth turned his eyes skyward and Sarah had to hide a smile as he chided the spirit, now technically his other half, "I didn't think you would talk _this_ much!"

Sarah smiled wider and lifted her hand once again to his face, "Well, I'm glad you're alright...and only half-deranged."

* * *

Jareth turned leaned into Sarah's touch for as long as he could, smiling at her oh-so-human way of bringing humor into an otherwise extremely serious situation, while trying to ignore the spirit's surprisingly annoying interjections that something was strange about her. 

_Why didn't you perceive this before?_ He irritably thought to the Labyrinth.

I _have told you already. Our senses are heightened; our power combined can sense more than was possible alone. When she touched us, I felt something different._ The spirit's explanation made sense, but Jareth had no idea how to deal with it at that point, and they didn't have the time for it either.

But without warning a searing feeling of panic and pain swept through them both and Jareth felt himself jerk violently away from his love.

The spirit's frightened voice echoed in his head as Sarah spoke his name in a hushed and worried tone, _The Queen's minions have tore through my defenses! They move through the Shadows, Jareth! I do not know where they are! _

Suddenly he heard the cawing of one raven followed by the replies of a hundred of them. It was a horrific sound, a multitude of voices, high and sharp, all ringing hungrily of violence and bloodshed and one rose high above them. It was a general signaling his army for a raid, and Jareth knew the voice and cringed as a woman's terrified scream echoed shortly after it.

He knew that voice as well and quickly sent a prayer to the Mother for aid before leaping from the bed and producing a barrier to keep Sarah where she was. He would not send her into harm's way, or into the possession of the Queen. He ignored her inevitable protests and bolted from the room.

_How can you not know where they are?_

_They are the Queen's. Much of her power cannot be affected by my own. I am still her creature._ The Labyrinth's voice grew faint in his mind, _She is trying to prevent me from aiding you, she still does not know we are linked. I will channel my power through you. You must find them and do as you see fit._

Jareth rushed into the clearing in front of the House to see Aidan sprawled across the grass and leaves of the forest floor. He was struggling against something almost transparent but insubstantial, dark and shadowy, like smoke from a wet log. Aidan's eyes bulged and his limbs flailed wildly, unable to connect with his assailant and slowing quickly. The shadow was choking him. Nadia, who had not been assailed by any of the creatures, was kneeling beside him, attempting to help but her hands only passed through her brother's attacker. She looked up and Jareth with unbridled terror in her eyes.

Jareth looked on stupidly for a moment, the realization of Aidan's danger becoming so intense he could not move. The shadow condensed and seemed to disappear into the golden man's mouth. His eyes clouded over immediately and his skin turned ashen.

The Goblin King shook himself from his own fear and closed his eyes, repeating the process of how he located her spyglass. He knew where one was, he needed to find them and dispose of them all quickly. He searched for the cold, the cold so intense you'd think it was warm.

One by one, in a few moments or a few centuries, Jareth found them. They were in the forest, in the maze, everywhere, the one in Aidan, and four or five trying to burrow their way through Sarah's protection. He realized immediately that Aidan's attack by one lone minion must have been a diversion, set to weaken his defense of Sarah. The Queen must be after her, to take back her former prisoner, to hit Jareth where she knew it would hurt the most, to force him to do something rash and stupid.

Jareth wouldn't allow himself to act rashly, but neither did he waste another moment. The Labyrinth gave him the power. He let it flow through him and into the land and the air, surrounding and crushing each shadow into nothingness.

They were gone. Jareth dropped the barrier surrounding Sarah. He heard the frantic slapping of her bare feet on the floor as she ran out of the house, only to stop short when she saw the scene before her. Jareth heard this, but his eyes were only for Aidan. Aidan who was still upon the ground, struggling to breathe as his sister attempted to force her magic into his dying body.

Dying, yes, dying. Jareth knew it, he felt it. The Labyrinth was strangely silent in his mind. There was nothing any of them could do. Jareth moved his stiff body towards the siblings, coming to the other side of Aidan and kneeling. He heard Sarah sit down hard on the steps to the House, tears streaming silently down her face. He could not go to her.

Jareth looked down at Aidan, the golden man's skin was still tinged grey and he was gasping for breath. Jareth reached across him and grasped Nadia's hands in his own, lifting his eyes to hers he spoke softly, "You must stop, Nadia. There is nothing to be done." The senses his merging with the spirit of the Labyrinth told him that the shadow had tainted Aidan's lungs and heart, they would not function properly for long.

He wrapped the woman's shaking hands around her brother's and watched as they said their silent goodbyes. He knew in all the important conversations there had never been a need for many words. Jareth realized this was probably the most important conversation they'd ever had.

Aidan let go of Nadia's hand and reached weakly for Jareth. His amber eyes were clear and wide open, unwavering on the Goblin King. Jareth caught his clammy hand that seemed smaller than usual and leaned closer as he opened his mouth to speak. Aidan's voice was raspy and he winced at every word. Jareth almost wished he wouldn't speak at all as he saw the pain break across his face, "Jareth...Sarah, s-she is...special...right. I was...wrong...sor--" he was broken off by a fit of coughing that wracked his entire body.

Jareth wanted to wait, wanted to let him finish, but he needed to hear before it was too late, "There is nothing to forgive, Aidan. I know that what you said was said out of love." He moved his hands to Aidan's face, it was already growing cold but he was not yet gone, "There is nothing to forgive."

As Jareth finished he saw the slightest of smiles pass over Aidan's face. He looked to his sister one more time, his hands still clinging to Jareth, and breathed his last breath. It caught and gurgled in his broken chest and a line of black liquid trickled from his mouth as his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side.

A strangled sob escaped Nadia's lips as she threw herself on his body. Sarah immediately rushed from the steps and wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman, gently pulling her from the ground. She tried to lead Nadia back toward the House, but they only made it a few short steps before her tears bore her to her knees.

Jareth turned back to the body of Aidan, glad for Sarah's help. He looked down at what had been his brother, his son, one of his only friends for a significant part of his life and sighed, heavy and mournful.

How could he have never shared his life, his secrets with this man? Aidan would never have...Jareth didn't even know what he'd been afraid of for so long. Maybe it had been another devise of the Queen, her lies would have never been seen through if Jareth had never shared them. He looked up at Sarah, who had broken through it all. He cursed the Queen, cursed her a thousand times and more for everything she'd done and lastly for taking the light of this man from the worlds. And then he cursed himself for running away from her as he pulled the power of the Labyrinth around the body.

Greenery quickly sprouted and grew up around Aidan, enfolding him and absorbing him into the earth. The two women turned at the sight and a small smile appeared on Nadia's face as a small tree sprouted on the spot. Its leaves were a brilliantly bronzed amber and Jareth knew the tree would thrive and the leaves would remain that same golden shade into eternity.

They all looked long at the sight until the hesitant voice of the Labyrinth came to Jareth's mind, _This will not be the last attack _she_ plans, Jareth. But we must hurry to make it the last executed. Come to the Tower. Bring them both if you must, but come quickly. Tear us from this world, let us all start anew._

Jareth's gaze moved to Nadia as the spirit spoke. Her smile had vanished, replaced once more with the ravages of her grief. She met his eyes sadly, waiting for him to speak as Sarah's arm came around her shoulders once more.

He paused, choosing his words carefully, deciding to speak across the clearing. He did not want to move until he had to. Despite the danger, despite the fear and the torment, Jareth knew a part of him did not yet want to leave the Labyrinth. It was had been his home, it was now a part of him. But he did not know what Nadia wanted.

He sighed again; it always began with a question, "Nadia, Sarah and I are fleeing to the Aboveground. I will cast the Labyrinth adrift in the veils. _She_ will pursue you if you try escape to the Independent Territories. Which path will you choose?"

Nadia's gaze traveled from his own back to the newly grown tree. Its amber leaves reflected clearly in eyes that were the exact same shade. Jareth nodded, knowing her answer without any need for speech. Jareth knew the Labyrinth would take care of her. She would never have to leave him.

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A/N: ...A lot happens in this chap. I really don't have anything to comment on exactly. It took me a long time for various reasons, not very interesting...some creative, some school related, some location related. Despite the sad evens of the chap, I really do like how it turned out...thanks to the betas for all the help (Heist, in my email to you I basically explained to myself why i wanted to keep it that way, hope that you can learn to live the name cuz its gonna stay...love you anyway ;D...muah) repies will be sent to reviewers and also posted in the LJ...thanks so much all and PLEASE REVIEW this chap...if only for mourning purposes...i will listen to your sadness but no flames for my decision please, it was for the good of the story. 

Love to all...hope you enjoy my Christmas/Holiday gift to you! Muah!

-Atsui

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Disclaimer: don't own laby...jim henson does, er did...have not maritally infiltrated his progeny...do own original characters...even though one has died...probably will add more in the near future...so don't worry too much... 


	23. Meet Me in the Aboveground

Chapter 22

Meet Me in the Aboveground

Sarah was still knelt beside Nadia as she watched Jareth, somewhat reluctantly, rise and cross the clearing. Aidan was dead, Nadia would stay in the Labyrinth with his remains, and she was returning to the Aboveground. The idea was almost alien to her. Go back to the _Aboveground_? Could she even call that world her home any longer? Did she belong there, after all that had happened to her, after all that had been done to her?

Jareth now stood before her. Sarah lifted her eyes to him, not bothering to disguise her fear. He would have seen through it anyway. An understanding expression softened his angular features as he extended a hand to pull her to her feet. She wanted to grasp it, to hang on for dear life, but her trepidation had paralyzed her. She stared at his proffered hand dumbly.

"Don't worry, Sarah. I will be with you." His voice was, if possible, softer than his face and she was overwhelmed once again with the feeling that she did not deserve him. Driven by the desire to prove to him and to herself that she was worthy of such love and support, she slowly but firmly placed her hand in his. Jareth pulled her easily to her feet and Nadia followed a moment later.

Sarah quickly embraced the golden woman. She thanked her in soft nearly incomprehensible murmurs for all of her kindness, only just realizing that they would probably never see each other again. "Thank you, for reminding me what it's like to have a friend. I thought...maybe I'd forgotten."

Nadia returned the embrace and Sarah's words fiercely, "It has been a pleasure and an honor to know you, Sarah." The golden woman placed her hands on either side of Sarah's face and stared directly into her eyes before speaking once more, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, "Remember, you are stronger than you think. I may not know everything that has happened to the two of you, but I know you faced what was behind an unknown door. You stood down Aidan in a temper. You endured despite _her_. You lived, Sarah. He will guide you through the darkness, but you will be the one to take the steps, of that I am sure."

Sarah had no idea how to respond to Nadia's unbridled faith in her and found herself nodding mutely as she reluctantly pulled away from her friend. She walked a few paces to the newly sprouted tree to give Jareth and Nadia some time to say goodbye.

Sarah fingered the supple amber branches marveling at the beauty of such a thing, created from the...spirit?...the energy?...of Aidan. It was small in comparison to the massive trees of the Labyrinth's forest, but its leaves shone with an amazing brilliance, almost a light of their own. It added a strange glow to the clearing and illuminated Sarah's view of the scene before her. It was the only moment in her time in the Labyrinth that she felt like an outsider. Sarah wanted to give them more space, but she could not tear her eyes away.

She watched her love bid farewell to his remaining vassal through the golden leaves of his recently departed. Jareth bent his head slightly to speak to her. She looked tired and smaller than before. Her usually immaculate dress was rumpled and torn. There were tears in her eyes and dirt streaks on her face as she nodded in answer and smiled up at him sadly.

Sarah reminded herself that Jareth had been father, brother, the only family that the twins had ever known. And he was leaving her. Why?

As the question crossed her mind fully, Jareth kissed Nadia's forehead gently and turned away from her, walking towards Sarah resolutely. Sarah's eyes met Nadia's once more and the golden woman smiled encouragingly and raised her hand in farewell before turning herself and walking into the House of the Wished.

Sarah lifted her hand slightly in return and as Jareth came up to her he captured it gently in his own and raised it to his lips. His mismatched eyes were sad, but calm. "Come, love, we need to stay ahead of _her_." She opened her mouth to say something but he silenced her as he pulled her close to him and spoke into her ear, "Wait just one minute, Sarah. I'm taking us to the Tower, it's from there we'll be able to escape."

"But...Jareth..." She knew she had to say something; things were happening now and soon she wouldn't be able to stop them at all. But he still wouldn't let her get the words out.

"Shhhh, love," he thought she was frightened of the magic, "Just relax, let me take you there." When in reality it was fear of the unknown, of _where_ he would take her. She let him do it anyway. No one could ever say she didn't trust him.

Sarah felt his power, the true power of the Labyrinth, surround her. It was a strange feeling and strange that she could identify it as being engulfed in power so easily, but it couldn't be anything else. The world around her shimmered and faded away, it was extremely disorienting and Sarah shut her eyes.

When she opened them they were standing in a large circular stone room. A small amount of light leaked through a few narrow turrets along the curved wall. She heard the wind whistling and blowing through them and knew that they were extraordinarily high up. It was the Tower that Jareth had spoken of before. Her bare feet left small footprints on the dust-coated floor, another room that hadn't been used in ages. She looked down to the mosaic stones that made up the intricately patterned floor. A dark brown stain, tinted red, traveled its way through the grooves of the design from an oddly shaped mass in one corner. It was Jareth's blood. He had never bothered to clean it.

As soon as Sarah made sure she had her bearings, she wrenched herself from his arms, backing away a few steps. Jareth cocked his head at her new demeanor, obviously confused by her sudden strange behavior. "What is it, love?"

She didn't blame him for being confused. She'd gone along with him for her entire stay in the Labyrinth, this time around, but before it had made sense. This time he wasn't telling her enough, this time she needed to know everything, this time was the most important. "You're releasing the Labyrinth from _her_ clutches, aren't you? That's why Nadia will be safe if she stays here...right?"

"Yes," he still looked puzzled, but seemed to be recovering quickly, "Listen, love, I'm sorry that we haven't had much time for explanation...but...there's a short window here. I won't have enough power to do this if she attacks us again."

"But you're planning on going with me to the Aboveground? To live your mortal life now?"

"Of course!" He seemed genuinely surprised that she had even asked.

Sarah shot him a harrowing look, even though his reasoning seemed obvious to him, it was not to her, "Why?"

"_What_?"

"I'm not stupid, Jareth. I know what she wants. I saw those...things around that barrier you put up. I know why Aidan died. She went after me. If I go to where she can't follow...alone, you can stay here. I'll be where I belong, and you can be where you belong, with Nadia." She thought about how sad they had looked through the branches, "I-I don't want to be...a..."

"A what? What will you be if I leave this place with you?"

"...a...home-wreaker..." She said the term as if it caused her physical pain and looked away.

She refused to look at him as he began to unravel her reasoning, "That's not what you'd be and you know it, Sarah. You are not going to spin this around your own familial problems. The fragmentation of my pseudo-family is not what this is really about, but I have no idea why you're balking. You're going to have to enlighten me."

Sarah looked back and felt tears stinging her eyes. He was right, she didn't want to ruin his family, but with the death of Aidan it was already done. And the twins would not have resented her for taking him from them. She tried to pick up the pieces of her defense, "But you can't deny that you would be safer if you remained in the Labyrinth after I am gone. If she won't bother Nadia, then she won't bother you. It's me that she wants."

He shook his head, "Sarah, you don't understand. Yes, she wants you but there's more to it than that. You're only one part of what she wants..." he hesitated before cringing as he finally put it bluntly and her nerve quailed as she realized the pain she had inflicted in forcing him to say the words. "Initially, you were only entertainment for her, Sarah. And now, you are only a tool to her, a tool to be used to hurt me, to make me weak and easier to control. She dropped you here in the first place to see what I would do with you, to laugh at my pain and yours. She killed Aidan to hurt me, and she wants to hurt you to _destroy_ me, or at least any part of me that would oppose her." There was real fear in his eyes, fear that she would be hurt, and fear that the Queen would get what she wanted.

Sarah was crying now. She didn't want to cry and she didn't want to continue the conversation, but she couldn't stop. She had known that she was not the only thing the Queen wanted. She had known there were too many holes in her half-formed proposal. But wasn't there another way? Couldn't they be together _somewhere__else_? "But the Labyrinth will be safe from her. You said Nadia would be safe...couldn't we be safe there too? Do we have t-to go back at all?"

He seemed impatient with her now, and she knew exactly why. She _was_ balking. She was wasting time that they might not even have. His voice was short and clipped, and Sarah tried not to wince at every other word. "Nadia will be safe from _her_ because _she_ doesn't have any concern for Nadia. If I stay anywhere near the Labyrinth for the next fifty years I will have a war on my hands. Is that what you want, Sarah? Do you want to take back what you said about revenge? I _told_ you I would kill her, it will take time and it will take innocent blood, but I can do it."

Now she was openly weeping, but they stood apart from each other, neither of them willing to bridge the gap she'd created. "Nnno, I-I don't want a w-war," she had to force the words from her mouth between sobs and gulps of breath. Sarah cast her eyes to the floor, focusing on the lines of ancient blood as she forced herself to say and to confront what she had not yet admitted, "But I don't want to go back there. I don't want to face the year that was taken from me. I don't want to face my family and friends. I don't want to answer their questions. I don't want their concern or their pity and that's all I will get if I go back there."

She looked up at him as the anger and frustration melted from his face. "Oh Sarah," his tone was softer than before, but still he did not move any closer to her, "What makes you think that this world will offer you anything better than the Aboveground, when here the only thing you or I have received from it is pain and anguish? It's true that the Labyrinth is my home now, and it may be yours too, but we can't stay here any longer. Isn't it better to flee to a place where you have family and friends that love and care for you than to be constantly looking over our shoulders in a world that could fall around our ears at any time?"

Sarah looked away again and didn't answer, she couldn't. He wouldn't have to face it. She knew the kind of things people would assume or imagine about her, and half of them would be true. She shivered; she had stopped crying but still said nothing.

Jareth continued, his voice strained, obviously not wanting the conversation to be any longer than it already was. His irritation was rising again, his impatience had not ebbed. Her silence did not help. He went for the deep cut. She didn't blame him, but it still hurt, "You do _want_ to be with me, don't you?"

Two could play that game. If he wanted to hurt her with that line, she would be so wounded he wouldn't be able to stand it. She met his eyes and looked straight into them. She let her anger and hurt and fear gape at him, like an open laceration. She made her voice as full as she could of righteous indignation and unmasked suffering, "_Of course I do!_" He did look stricken for a moment, but it didn't last. Of course, she had known he would see through that too.

He shook his head viciously and crossed the room in two strides, an almost guttural "_Enough!_" tearing from his lips. He took her swiftly in his arms and spoke into her hair, "I am wise enough to know this will get us nowhere fast." He paused and spoke again, this time softer in a voice that demanded she listen...really listen, "I never wanted this world for you, Sarah, not even the Labyrinth. This world...my world was _never_ good enough for you. Your world holds so much more... light, more _possibility_. It's a place where dreams truly can be realized. My dream is to know you and to love you completely, to give you a home, to give you children..._whatever_ is in my power to give. The only place that I can achieve this dream is in the Aboveground. Do you understand, love?"

She nodded silently and tilted her face to catch his slightly opened lips with her own. She lifted her hand to weave into his hair. Tears leaked from her tightly closed eyes and his fingers gently brushed them away. When they parted she spoke, the words coming low and haltingly, "I'm sorry. I...I understand...I want that too. I really do. I'm just...so _scared_."

Jareth wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and she clung to him so hard her feet were almost off the ground. Sarah didn't want to talk anymore, she didn't want to argue. She didn't want to move from his arms, she didn't want to go back. But she knew what she didn't want wasn't going to change what _was_ going to happen.

His voice came again from where it was buried in her hair, "I'm sorry, love. I should have realized how difficult going back will be for you. But I need you to stay strong for me...just a little bit longer. I can't do this without you, Sarah. I need you to find me. I need you to...remind me of..._everything_."

Sarah pulled out of their tight embrace and stared at him. She had forgotten that he wouldn't remember this world...any of it. The thought filled her with dread. How would she find him? What if he were...lost...along the way? And then another, more terrible thought struck her, "Y-you have to be born...in the Aboveground..."

He broke her off immediately, knowing exactly what she was afraid of, "You remember I told you we can control where we end up? My Father made sure he was born at least ten years before Guinevere so that he could be sure to marry her. I can do the same, the Labyrinth will help me. And I am sure that he'll make sure I am not too far from where you are."

She finally smiled at him, although a little hesitantly, "Not _ten_ years though?"

He grinned, "Maybe not that long."

Another though struck Sarah and she blurted out the question before she even thought to phrase it properly, "How long?"

He shrugged his shoulders and responded vaguely, "Oh, two or three years maybe. It won't really be up to me. It's the Labyrinth that will be guiding my spirit to you."

She shook her head, her anxiety rising already, "No. How long until we find each other. How long will we be apart?"

He sighed heavily and Sarah knew she wasn't going to enjoy his answer, "As long as it takes." He looked into her eyes steadily and she knew he saw her disquiet. He moved his hands to stroke her hair, cupping her face and cradling her fragile strength, "There is no doubt in my mind that we will find each other, my love. And I know that when I see you, somewhere inside of my soul, I will know who you are, even if I cannot remember your name."

Sarah felt slightly reassured and she forced another small smile. She felt like she was trying to prove to him she could be stronger than she had been, that she could finished it, that she would find him, that they would be together. She wasn't sure if she was entirely convincing.

But he smiled back at her, only a little sadly, and whispered, "I love you, Sarah," before he bent slightly to kiss her again.

It was another long and lingering kiss, his hands moved from her hair to her waist. It felt like one was holding something else, but the kiss was _long_ and soon Sarah lost track of time and the rest of the world.

But somehow the world was pulled out from under her, or rather, sucked. Sarah felt herself being violently torn from Jareth's embrace as her body flew from the Tower. The immensely strong blast of air supported her at least ten feet from the outside of the circular room for only a few seconds. It was enough time to register that one of the narrow turrets had been somehow _widened_. It was also enough time to see Jareth fix her with a half-resigned, half-guilt-ridden stare before hurling a crystal directly at her. It hit her with little force and no pain.

And all she knew was the wind and the sky and a direction.

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A/N: This chap is especially dedicated to Heist, who helped me enormously on it...I mean a lot here, people. This chap would not be what it is without her crucial input. And i would just like to state right here that I LOVE this chapter. So thank you, Heist...excessively, thank you. 

Ummm...that's all I've really got going for me right now. I have no idea how long the next one will take to complete, but just so you know, it'll be the last official TWB chapter. So I would also just like to say that I REALLY WANT REVIEWS for this one...please, lovelies?

Many thanks anyway...Atsui

PS..replies are being sent and will also be posted in my LJ...look in my profile for the link...XD

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Disclaimer: I don't own Laby...man, I'm unfunny tonight...  



	24. Let Go of Nothing

Chapter 23

Let Go of Nothing

Jareth stared at Sarah as she flew towards the veils. It was necessary to transform her into a bird to make the journey; that being the only way he knew how to do it. He had cast the spell without warning, knowing that Sarah could stall as long as she wished unless he took some initiative. Sneaky, dubious initiative, but he had taken it anyway. She would be angry about it after all of it was over, whenever it _was_ all over.

She was still within sight as Jareth contemplated her anger, as well as the form she had taken. His spell had not been specific, he had actually been curious about what the unknown form would say about her nature.

Sarah's avian form was a kestrel...he thought, but her coloring was much darker. Where she should have been white, she was a mottled grey, where she should have been rust brown, she was a deep chocolate brown. Her wings were barred thickly with a strikingly dark shade of ebony. This was not the coloring of a normal kestrel.

Jareth shook his head, kestrel or not, she was definitely a bird of prey, something he had not really anticipated. Most humans did not take any type of animal form as a predator. It was magically too difficult for them to hold such powerful spirits. He certainly would not have expected it of Sarah, who was in an incredibly weakened state from her recent traumatic experiences.

He watched as she disappeared into the veils, knowing that Sarah would not stop in her swiftly majestic flight until she came to the place from which she had summoned the Queen, for he had designed the spell that way. He shook his head as he turned from the view, his love was constantly surprising him with her astute ability to grasp the finer points of life in the Underground. She understood the way of things with an ease he had never seen in any other mortal, she sensed things from this world and from him that she should not have been able to sense.

_There is something strange about her_, the Labyrinth's voice returned to invade his "private" musings.

"Will you please stop going on about it?" Jareth snapped out loud, not sure if he could sound as irritated as he wanted to inside his own head. He felt the spirit flinch within him and sighed heavily. It was like arguing with a part of himself, not very difficult but always extremely self-revealing and thus, painful. He lifted a hand to wipe across his forehead in irritation because the Labyrinth was right and neither of them had the time to sit and figure it out. He spoke this time through the link between them, _Come, we have wasted enough time. Show me what to do._

He felt the spirit's resistance to his request, _This is something that must be investigated. This cannot be ignored, it is important._

Jareth shook is head again, this time emphatically negative, _We don't have the time_.

She _has stayed her hand this long_

_That's because we are lucky, she could be on her way at this very moment._

_She is not. I would know if she were near. The darkness is not closing, not like before._

He still shook his head. The motion had become something like a nervous twitch, something he could not stop, _No, we do not have enough time. You have no idea how long something like that would take. I know that._

_But we must—_

"No!" He spoke aloud, once more, using his natural form of communication to overpower the Labyrinth's notions. Jareth's head was pounding. He did not enjoy arguing with this new and alien part of himself. He felt the reasoning of the spirit encroaching upon his own, merging together into something that was not _his_, not his thoughts, not his decisions. Somehow, he could feel it becoming _theirs... ours_.

"No!" he repeated in a voice that was too laced with fear for his liking. He battled for himself within his own mind, "You said...you promised me...that was the arrangement..._you said you would not take control from me_."

Jareth could feel the spirit's confusion and rising anxiety at his ardent denial of what appeared to be obvious. The Labyrinth ignored his fearful statement, and continued to try and dissuade him. Jareth suddenly felt an intense desire to soothe its concern, to commiserate, to agree that..._of course we must understand the strange thing about Sarah..._our_ Sarah_...the thought reverberated in his head as two voices melded together.

Jareth silently screamed in frustration and terror as he threw up a wall in his mind, dredging the last of _his_ reserves of power. He had not used his own power since he had let the spirit enter him. The barrier would not have blocked this unconsciously powerful onslaught, but it was the fact that he had thrown it at all that stopped the spirit in his metaphorical tracks.

He felt the Labyrinth's distress at being cut off from him, even within the same body, _Why do you keep yourself from me? Do you not wish to leave here? Are we not now one?_

"We are not..." he spoke, breathless with effort, continuing aloud to keep as much of himself separated as possible, "we are not _one_ in the sense that you seem to think we should be."

_Are we not?_

"No. You assured me that you would not take control."

_I was not_ _taking control_. The spirit actually sounded affronted by that statement.

"Oh, were you not?" Jareth half-mocked the Labyrinth, trying to keep himself from becoming hysterical, knowing that his worst fear had just nearly been realized, "You were _consuming_ me. A few moments more and neither of us would have known where one ended and the other began."

He felt the Labyrinth start violently, as if he had just realized that that was what had happened. There was a long pause, _That was not my intention. I was only trying to convince you—_

Jareth interrupted again, "You must understand, I _cannot_ have you take control. I have allowed you within me, but everything that is done _must_ be _my_ decision. It is my body and my mind, my _will_."

_Yes, of course_.

He pressed on, needing to ensure that the spirit understood what was at stake, "You cannot _ever_ try to convince me of something in such a manner again. I am not strong enough to deny you."

The spirit paused for another long moment, gave the mental equivalent of a nod and then returned with a jarring non-sequitor, _Why do you not wish to understand Sarah?_

Jareth was keenly reminded that, although the Labyrinth was a creation of the Mother, it was far from any other of Her children that He had ever known or heard of. He took a deep breath and answered, more truthfully than he would have wished, but knowing that denying the truth would lead to confusion between the two of them and down the path to his own destruction. He let down the barrier and spoke once more in his mind, _I fear the answers I would receive_.

_What would you have to fear from Sarah?_

_I fear the unknown. I fear that the answer is something I will not wish to know. However, I will escape to a place where it will no longer matter._

_But that is only for a time._

Jareth winced, he had not clearly thought past the Aboveground. He almost believed it wouldn't really matter after he lost Sarah to her mortal death. He answered anyway, suppressing a shudder,_ There, it will not matter and after my return it will no longer be a concern at all. I will treasure my extended ignorance._

_Should not all ignorance be replaced with knowledge? Is that not the way of Fae and Man, alike?_

Jareth smiled at the small irony, there was a time when he would have thought the same. _That is the philosophy of some. However, sometimes ignorance is the less painful of the two. I have had enough pain derived from knowledge. What I do not understand will not harm me in the Aboveground. There is much I will not understand there, at any rate._

He felt the Labyrinth consider this followed by a kind of mental nod and an intense new awareness of...rightness, of a final complete understanding between them. Jareth was calmed by this feeling and truly knew that the spirit had not intended to usurp him. His fears subsided and, to his surprise, the Labyrinth sent words of comfort to him, _Even though you go into a simpler existence, Jareth, know that the connection we have forged spans all worlds and all time. You will feel it in the mortal realm, though you, undoubtedly, will not understand it. A part of me will still be within you, no matter where your spirit travels._

Jareth smiled and was about to suggest once more that they begin, but was struck by a thought that he could not ignore, _You must find a way to speak with Nadia on a regular basis. It will be quite lonely for her._

The spirit again took a long moment to consider this statement and finally answered, _Yes, I have grown accustomed to solitude. But it will be...interesting to have a companion. She shall not be alone. I will not leave her to her grief. _

_Thank you,_ Jareth sent back and, surprisingly, felt lighter, less burdened, knowing that Nadia would not be left completely alone, that he had not abandoned her. _Now, let's not waste any more time._

_Agreed.

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_

The Queen of Shadows ground her teeth in suppressed frustration. Her shadows had been...defeated. He had crushed them, he had smote them, he had...obliterated them...somehow. _How_ had he done it? He had rid the damn maze of her minions _and_ he had protected his sniveling girl-creature. _Where_ had he obtained such power? He should not have had near enough to _do_ any of what he had done.

Morgane's long fingers ground into the arms of her throne. The boy was maddening. _How had he done it?_ The dark wood groaned under the pressure of her grip and she heard Accolon make some sort of strangled whimpering noise. She sneered at his fear. She'd just beaten him in her anger at Jareth's Mother-cursed removal of her "spyglass", why should he think she would get any satisfaction from doing it again, so soon after? She thrust herself from the throne in disgust.

The Queen moved her thoughts back to her wayward Steward as she stepped from the dais. Well, he would still not escape her, oh no. He _still_ had no where to run and she could remove him from the Labyrinth at any time. It was _her_ creature after all, just as _he_ was.

She had suffered losses before, she was not infallible. Morgane glided across the black stone floor, moving at a leisurely pace. There was no cause for urgency. He would be shaken by the death of his servant. There would be a burial, there would be much grieving. She knew of his...regard for the dead mortal, she had time.

Morgane entered her chamber, lit the lamp at her vanity with a thought, and divested herself of the heavy brocade cloak she wore in court, throwing it idly on a daybed. She completed each act slowly, searching for her balance. She would have Jareth back, but it would not be soon if she did not reign in her anger. She went to her vanity and removed all the jewelry from her hands one by one, then looked up into the mirror to see Accolon lurking in the doorway.

"Chamberlain." she kept her voice even, allowing herself to take her normal pleasure in this simple but satisfying torment.

"Is there anything that you require, my Queen?" Hoarse from screaming, his voice barely traveled across the room, but she heard him.

She turned to face him so that half her face became enclosed in shadow. She noted how he held himself, even more hunched than usual, cradling his wounds from her previous anger. Of course, if he had not inquired at all, she would have been equally as incensed. She saw the fear in his eyes and reveled in it, "I require that you leave my sight before I thrash you once more. And you may not be so eager for it this time, old man. You might not escape with your life."

Her withered warrior visibly flinched and limped quickly away from the entryway. She smirked and slammed the large dark wooden door with another thought, hearing a stifled yelp immediately after. Morgane kept her eyes on the closed door for a moment. At any other time she would have cackled mercilessly at Accolon's terror, but that night she felt herself fall into a contemplative mood.

She remembered a time when the actions of the mortal knight Accolon of Gaul would have incited anything but laughter from her. He had never been a man to be laughed at, to be ridiculed so. Morgane had driven him to such a pitiful state. Nearly five hundred years of her torturous service had dwindled him to a shadow of his former glorious, if mortal, self, even to a shadow of a man.

Morgane rarely thought of her lifetime in the Aboveground, except to muse on the failings of her beloved "brother". She had felt things and done things for reasons she found increasingly hard to remember, year after year.

During her mortal life, she had been unusually aware of her Fae heritage and remembered often subduing the most inconvenient of the emotions her mortal body and heart had granted her. She had gone there to complete a mission, and she had succeeded in that. But she had not been able to entirely remove her humanity. She had not left Accolon for dead. Sometimes Morgane thought she tormented the man so because he was living proof of the human morals that had been thrust upon her. But still, she could never kill him. And she thought...she would be...sorry...when he died.

The Queen of the Shadows shook her head and turned from the vanity, somehow, unsettled even more than she had been upon entering her chambers. She went to a shelf on the wall and took down her tools for scrying, a long, ornately hilted, dagger, and a shallow basin of the same black stone and tarnished silver interlocking knot and raven design. The basin was full, nearly to the brim, with murky brown water, but she did not spill a drop. This water was not to be wasted, nor was it to be cleansed. It was her own blood that muddied the water, and it increased the power of her sight with every single use.

She placed the basin upon her circular scrying table and drew the knife expertly across her palm with no hesitation. The pain had only ever bothered her once, she had been a child then, and it had been her first glimpse into the waters. She spoke the ancient words, words to send her a vision of he who she sought, and slid her hand into the still water, feeling it immediately begin to roil. It churned and pulled around her hand, sucking the power from her wound. She tightened her other hand's grip on the table, this should not have been so difficult. Why did it take so much power to see him?

Suddenly the water stilled and Morgane removed her hand, frowning slightly as she peered into the vision she had conjured...

_She saw a smallish room, with smooth white walls adorned with thin paintings of strange subjects and large words. Papers were scattered haphazard about the room, all over the few desks and chairs, some having fallen to the floor. One window and a few square shaped lamps illuminated the small space. A young man sat before one of these lamps, perhaps one of the mortals' many newly invented machines. _

Morgane shook her head; the machine was of no importance. She focused on the man. This was a mortal man, living in the Aboveground. This was not what she sought. Why was she granted this vision? Who was this man? She turned back to the pool...

_She could not see his face, but his hair...it was an uncommonly pale color_. Morgane's nerves tightened. _She heard a low sound emanating from his direction; it rose and fell in a softly hummed tune while he worked on his unfamiliar machine. _

"_Hmm, hm, hm, hm, hm, hmmm hmm hmm, hmmmmmm." As he poked at the desk in front of him the words to his tune broke through his lips that had been pursed in concentration, "You starve and near exhaust me." _While quiet, the man's voice was compelling and echoed out from the pool. The familiar melody reached her ears, followed by familiar words that forced her mind to reach into the past.

Morgane was drawn into another vision, this one from her own memory. Guinevere had been beside the fire with the other ladies, weaving on a loom, humming the same melody, whispering the same words. Interrupted by a mask of geniality, "Wherever did you learn that song, my queen?" Returned with an embarrassed smile, "Oh, it has just always been in my head, sister. I must have heard it when I was very young, for it has always stayed with me." Morgane had left the room with an air of barely disguised contempt. Until that moment she had not been sure if the _queen_ had known anything of her true nature.

She forced her thoughts back to the scryed vision. _A stray hair fell into his eyes and he paused to brush it back as he smiled, probably from the absurdity of singing to the machine. He did not stop however, letting his smile broaden as he continued a little louder, "Everything, I've done, I've done for youuuu...I move the stars for no one."_

_Someone called to the man from a door that had just opened behind him. "Singing to the system again, eh Travers?"_

_He turned about swiftly on his chair and she saw his face fully for the first time. She saw his eyes, the very image of his mother's, hidden behind the mortal trappings of wire and glass. His face still held the nobility and grace of his forebears, but it had been softened. His brows were still made for rising in indignation, his eyes for glaring in defiance. But they also seemed more inclined to offer a kind glance, a smile, a laugh. _

_He returned the other's jibe with a confident air, "I'll do whatever the hell it takes to reach our efficiency rate, Burke. Perhaps you should try sonnets. I'm sure Professor Hansen would love to hear some. Because, you know what an incurable romantic _she_ is." He removed the glass from before his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning back to his machine._

_He sang on, sometimes with the words, or just humming, as if he only knew some of them. The other continued speaking, "Y'know, I think you may be working too hard, Travers. I realize that you've got to work for the degree, that's the bane of all grad students. But when was the last time you saw the sun?" He had paused in the tune, drumming his fingers on the desk. The other noted this and continued quickly, "I mean, you are _beyond_ pale. You can't _live_ in a machine!"_

_He turned about swiftly, pointing a finger at the other, a smugly satisfied grin on his face, "That's it. _I can't live within you_. I could never remember that line. Thanks, Burke." And he turned back to the machine, still softly humming the tune._

_The other sputtered, "You haven't been paying attention to a word I've said, have you?"_

"_No, I am just choosing to ignore it. But thanks also for the concern. I'm fine." The song continued after the break, as if he had not stopped._

"_You're hopeless, Travers." A long pause, the man seemed to be reluctant to leave, "Where did you learn that song, anyway? I've certainly never heard it before."_

"_Oh, it's been lurking about my head for a while...pops up now and again. I must've heard it somewhere, though I can't really remember." The song started up again, it seemed to be on a permanent loop, for it was not very long. "Though I do believe in youuu..."_

She marveled at him, at his changed appearance and demeanor, at the aspects of his nature that remained, inherently, the same. Still, even after the shift in worlds, he bore the eyes of that woman and they flashed when he let loose another slightly superior smirk towards the closing door. Their light seared her vision, they burned her soul.

Morgane had never seen them do that, for he had never known any cause for mirth in her presence. A wave of desire suddenly overcame her, to know this man, to see him as the mortals now saw him, to see him as _the girl_ had seen him..._Jareth_. But, somehow, she felt this was something she could never achieve, something beyond her capacity. She shuddered, trying to dismiss her insidious thoughts, and clutched the marble tabletop to bend over her scrying pool, once more.

But she paused as another, now violent, shudder coursed through her and she felt something shift, something large, something unaccountably significant. She felt it being torn from her, felt it as the severing of a limb. She felt it fall and crumble away from her..._the Labyrinth_. She felt her prize slip through her taut fingers. She felt its growing absence from her well of power, scrambling to draw from it, only to find she could not.

She was brought to her knees by the force of her myriad of workings that had been supported by the power of her now lost prisoner. She searched for the power to pursue the thieves, grasping the table to haul herself to her feet. But the burden of the entirety of her dark magic settled on her shoulders and she knew she no longer held enough even to sustain it all. She collapsed heavily, bringing the table down with her. The blood and water of her visions plummeted and the basin shattered as the gash on her palm reopened, the blood pouring freely from it.

Morgane watched the dark liquid merge with the growing puddle upon the stone. _They_ had come together somehow, in a way she had not been able to foresee, a way she did not understand. She thought of the smile on the mortal Jareth's young face, she thought of the memories and desires she had exposed in the girl, and she wondered at the things she had never allowed herself to know, as the blood stained her hand crimson and flowed into the water. She knew she would not die, she had suffered losses before, and it would take much more to bring her even close to the arms of the Mother. But still, she keened the anguish and sorrow of defeat...and perhaps...something more.

* * *

Jareth leaned heavily against one of the Tower's narrow turrets, letting the steady wind caress his face. He watched group of goblins, made tiny by the height, engage in one of their mindless scuffles in his courtyard. He shook his head, letting loose the beginnings of a laugh. Life would continue as it had for centuries in the Goblin City, regardless of whether or not he would be there. The goblins obeyed him out of fear, but they would not really notice his absence.

Jareth's muscles quivered and his hands shook slightly with fatigue. An astonishing amount of power had been channeled through his body. The spirit of the Labyrinth had told him what to do, had put the power within his reach, and Jareth had done it. They were safely away. She did not have the resources to pursue them.

He lifted his eyes to gaze out in to the hazy mists and clouds of the veils, lost in thought. The Labyrinth now felt very alien, very removed from the worlds. Surrounded by a thick white and grey miasma, he wondered if anything could reach it now.

He directed his concerns to the spirit, _How will the players find their way into the game now? From where will you draw your power?_

_I have no real need for the game, the Queen kept it to add to her bottomless well of power. I will welcome the travelers of the veils and those destined to play the game will come whether or not I desire them. I have enough power, retaken from the Queen, to sustain me for many generations. Fear not, Goblin King, you will have a realm to return to._

Jareth shook his head,_ I have no real desire to return. I do not know if this world will hold anything for me._

_It may not hold anything you desire, Goblin King, but do not leave your mind in the Aboveground along with your heart, for you will need it upon your return. The denizens of both sides of the Underground will not leave me to the veils for long, and I will not be able to hold them at bay for much longer than your absence._

Jareth felt an emptiness form within him at the thought of being in this world once more, of being without Sarah, forever..._not long at all_. A horribly sardonic noise escaped his throat, it might have been a laugh, but Jareth cut it short. He could not dwell on this now. _I will deal with what comes at my return, upon my return._

_By all means, _Jareth sensed the Labyrinth realizing he should drop the subject.

Jareth turned from the narrow window and looked at the empty Tower, sighing with finality. There were things that he enjoyed about his life in the Labyrinth, but his time in it had been too laced with pain and loss. He had said goodbye to Nadia, there was nothing else that he loved well enough to take the time to bid any more farewells. The Labyrinth would always be a part of him, and through time, he expected that feeling would grow. But while Sarah lived, she was his only home.

_Is there anything I must do to prepare? _Jareth actually had very little idea of how the spirit sending process worked. He had not stayed long enough in the Court of Light to witness the ceremony.

_You will undoubtedly want to find a place to sit down. I trust you do not wish your body to be standing for the next century._

_No, _Jareth chuckled_, that would probably not be very wise. _He produced a crystal and dropped it where his favorite reading chair from the library appeared a moment later. He sat in the deep cream upholstered cushions, feeling slightly ridiculous. _Now what?_

The spirit's voice filled the entirety of his mind and his body, making them both feel extremely heavy, _Relax and let go._ He slumped in the chair, muscles going slack, his arm fell over the side of the chair to brush against the dusty floor, and his eyelids became too heavy to lift any longer. It did not occur to him to be frightened. This was not the unconsciously hostile takeover that he had fought through not so very long before. Jareth welcomed the invasion of the spirit. He knew that something wonderful would come from it. He felt his own spirit strain to be free of such weight, he felt it reach toward the place the Labyrinth was drawing him. _I will guide you there, Jareth, you need only trust and wait for her to find you._

Jareth smiled, slow and dream-like, his last thought before succumbing to the Labyrinth's overwhelmingly strong compulsion was of her. He would enter this new world with a vision of Sarah fixed in his mind. This time, _nothing_ would keep him from his love.

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A/N: This is it, faithful readers, the end of the story. But fear not! There will be an epilogue, posted separately, because I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be quite long... XD 

I would like to put out there that I realize there are some weird paradox issues with the time line of this last chap...i.e. how can the Queen have seen Jareth in the mortal world if he hadn't been sent there yet, but how can he not have been there already because it's the past...etc. etc. So don't try and get me on that, I just hope I was able to suspend all you guys' belief.

Anyway, I worked especially hard on this chap, as it is the end, and I would really appreciate a ton of reviews on it and on your thoughts on the entire story. Now is the time to tell me what you think, people! The story may have been a lot more long and involved than I had originally intended, but I am extremely proud of it and I'm looking forward to continuing it and then writing even more Labyrinth fiction. So any thoughts on my work so far would be really, really appreciated.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, ever. And extreme special thanks to the betas...in the order that I acquired them, kizzy, vara, heist, and crystal. Thank you all so much for your wonderful input and putting up with my insane impatience. I love you all!

As always, review replies will be posted in my LJ...and maybe something special later on, depeding on how the writing of the first epilogue chapter goes. So please review and check it out!

Ok, thanks to everybody who ever had anything to do with this story!

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Disclaimer: Have not owned Laby for the whole entire story...certainly do not own it now.

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